


Office Who Protects My Heart

by RoseStilinskiHale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Knotting, Alpha Allison, Alpha Derek, Alpha Kira, Alpha Scott, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, Car Sex, Cars, Derek works in Emergency Service Unit of Sheriff Department, Detective Derek Hale, Dick Jokes, F/F, F/M, FTM Stiles Stilinski, Guns, Human Stiles Stilinski, Humor, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mets vs Padre, Mobs, New Year City is Beacon Hills, Oblivious Stiles, Omega Isaac, Omega Stiles Stilinski, POV Derek, POV Stiles, Pining Derek, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Jonathan, Werewolf Danny Mahealani, Werewolf Derek, Werewolf Isaac, Werewolf Scott, slight D/s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:19:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4926577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseStilinskiHale/pseuds/RoseStilinskiHale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One moment he was getting dumped by his fiance Theo Raeken over a lavish seafood dinner, next moment he found himself in a BDSM club and suddenly Derek popped out of nowhere in the club all angry and deranged and whisked Stiles off his feet. A google alert on Sheriff Stilinski. Parking lot shootout. And insane sexual frustration leads to one things into another. Until Stiles and Derek are so deep they don't know how to surface.</p><p>Or </p><p>Where Stiles and Derek both love each other but are so in denial. </p><p>Work in Progress</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by: Officer Off Limits
> 
> All the characters belong to Teen Wolf and I make no claim to the plot of the story.
> 
>  
> 
> This is my Sterek version of Officer Off Limits with certain changes incorporated by me to suit the situation and the ending of the fanfic.
> 
> NOT BEAT'D  
> All Mistakes are mine.
> 
> I have shameless copied some catchy line, mentioning it beforehand so please don't bug me

 

 

 

Scott lifted wine bottle and looked at Stiles. “You want another pint or do you want to try this.”

Stiles tried to decide if the hangover he was going to suffer tomorrow morning was a foregone conclusion or if the potential headache was still salvageable.

“Screw it. Let me try the red.” He said flopping back against the couch on a heavy sigh and rubbed his forehead. Mixing alcohol probably wasn’t the smartest thing but he was feeling sorry for myself and after what had transpired this even, he could prefer an alcohol induced coma.

Scott made a sympatric noise pouring sour red wine into a glass before passing to the gladd to Stiles and said. “Theo was never right for you.” His little puppy eyes did nothing to subside the burning rage and self-depreciation assailing Stiles insides. He had planning a quiet Christmas Eve with his fiancé Theo until he’d called him and asked to meet in one of the finest Seafood Restaurant in San Diego  and later break their engagement in style because Theo Raeken knew Stiles wouldn’t make a scene in such a lavish setting.

The moment the words fell from Theo’s mouth, Stiles’ felt like his world tilted as a forkful of some tasteless fancy fish hung mid-air hovering in front of his mouth, his already parted jaws went more slack and he was sure then that it had virtually hit the china dish—as he gaped at his now ex- fiancé.

_Really? He’d to dump me like this?_

 The hushed chatter, soft clinking of ice cube, scraping of silverware on the expensive plates embodied with the restaurant’s mark drowned under the propelling emotions that his ears started to buzzed.

 _A cheap steakhouse would’ve been better and I could plunge the fork right into his eyes and scoop the eyeball to deep fry it—_ Stiles  thought as he cleared his barb wedged in his throat lowering the fork and dropped his eyes to his plate. “Why?” He asked and grimaced at how horse his voice sounded to him so he cleared his throat again. “I mean why would you do me such an honour at such an auspicious place?”

Theo looked up at Stiles calving the fish. “I realized that we weren’t working out and right now we weren’t at our best.”  He said and had the decency to look apologetic.

Stiles failed to prevent his disgusted snortand sunk back into the plush seat. “Is it because of Malia?”

Theo looked away from Stiles and shifted uncomfortable before grabbing the highball and took a sip. “I know this isn’t easy for you and definitely not for me but it happened and I feel that she is my mate.” 

His statement made Stiles hackles to rise, making him very alert of the dreading deapth of the words so spoken. He hauled forward his forearm meeting the table as he leaned in. “Hold on. what?” He spluttered in disbelief.

Theo’s eyes flicked back to Stiles, sharp and focused then he placed the glass back and slumped back in his chair. “I-I was thinking how to tell you but I was willing to spoil your Christmas Eve I know how much important it is for you.” His hand reached towards the highball as he tweaked in its place. It’s a nervous gesture Stiles knew that very well which only made his heart began to race.

“Spit it out, Theo.” He hissed impatiently.

“I think she is my mate.” Theo looked unsure of himself and it was the first time Stiles’d seen this in him. It straightened his back and made his eyes narrow questioningly.

 

 _Okay_.  Now he understood his feels—or his sixth sense was sending his red alert.

 

Stiles remember meeting Malia at some social gather held by the Law firm Theo’s father owned. She was a beautiful lady with tan skin and wavy bob all prime and primed, donning a long green sequenced one slit gown and black stilettos. She was nothing like Stiles and he could shamefully admit the immediate jealousy he felt at her presence and how agitated he became when Malia asked Theo to dance with her.

 

 _Shame Stilinski didn’t see this coming, right?_ “And?” His irritation was surpassing to the level of fury, he could throw a straight punch at Thoes’ face and wouldn’t care if he broke his arm hitting an Alpha.

The uncertainty flashes to frustration in a nanosecond, making Stiles wonder if it was directed at him or whether Theo was frustrated with himself. _I’m hoping it’s the latter._ “She wants to spend her heat week with me and I can’t say her no.”

 

A chocked whimper released from  Stiles and it was the last straw. Theo’s eyes flashes red in alarm as he reached out to comfort but Stiles was already standing, sending the chair skidding back on the floor. He didn’t bother to look around —he had managed to gather some attention—and turned around hightailing, almost tripping on his feet, knocking with someone shoulder. Stiles feet made quick work of removing him from the suffocating restaurant and landing him onto the sidewalk. Cold winter breeze hit his anger flushed face making him shiver and breath left him whooshing from his lungs after the run. He looked around at the roving traffic and waved at the flying taxis. He could hear Theo calling him, pleading him to stop and listen to him. But Stiles just couldn’t stop, and there’s only so long he had patience humouring his ex-fiancé—there was no reason to listen the message was passed to him loud and clear—His ex fiancé had found his mate and his Alpha dick was throbbing to knot. Stiles looked towards the restaurant and around the swimming crowd he registered Theo approaching hastily, weaving through pedestrians so he jumped into the first available cab and fled.

 

The hoots of glee broke the reverie and brought Stiles back to here and now. Glancing around the room, he had to admit that—in some ways—he was happy. He was sitting in Scott and Kira’s living room surrounded by the five other people who’d become his lifeline in the past year.

 

They lived together. All in the same building. All of them had grown up together and after graduating from high school moved to Illinois together for college and this was the last year they might spend together, because next year who knows where their individual career would take them.

 

Suddenly he felt guilty that he’d bailed his friends on last year’s Christmas to spend a lavishing seafood dinner with Theo and on that particular day that rat bastard had proposed to Stiles and one year later he was dumped to the curb. It’s humiliating on various levels when he remembered that look of disapproval on Scott’s face when Stiles had announced their engagement.

 

When they cab had dropped him in front of their apartment building his scrambled registered the incident, contemplating whether he should go to deal with his best friend’s—I told you so look—or just camp outside to spend the freezing till he dies.

 

 

Stiles again managed to surface when he felt an elbow nudge from Isaac. Sucking in air and blinking back saltwater he turn to gaze at his other friend, who looked concerned and little irritated. Tramping down the stupid emotions Stiles pasted a smile.

 

“What am I doing here?” Stiles hadn’t meant to say the words aloud, but he couldn’t hold his frustration.

 

“Celebrating Christmas Eve with us.” Allison replied, clearly not catching his drift.

 

“And you fobbed us last year for that rat basted.” Isaac added tartly.

 

“Stop it, Isaac.” Scott scorned with a disapproving frown then looked at Stiles, his brown eyes softening as he absorbed him. “How are you feeling?”

 

“I’m fine.” He replied cringing inwardly at how lame he sounded to himself. “What’re we doing tonight?”

 

Isaac crinkled his nose. “If only you could stop smelling so much of pain we’re planning to head out.” His smart mouth earned him a soft punch on the shoulder from Allison and in turn he shot a scowl at her way which she completely ignored focusing on Stiles.

 

 _Nosey wolf._ Stiles winced and shifted on the soft couch—where he had plunked his ass to get comfortable—feeling anything but comfortable he averted his eyes to the wine glass held by the stem and swirled the red liquid. “I know you guys warned me.” I mumbled quietly.

 

“Hey. Shit happens. And its better that you figured it out, before you mated with him.” Kira said on a soft smile reaching to grab his hand and squeeze it in hers.

 

Stiles nodded bringing the glass to his lips before taking a sip to wet his dry throat.

 

Scott bobbed his head lightly in agreement looking from his girlfriend to Stiles and a scowl marred his forehead. “I still don’t get it how did you be with him for two years?”

 

 _I’m asking myself the same shit buddy._ Stiles gnawed on his lips thinking had and let out a withering sigh. “It was easy with him.” He replied calmly, and for the first time realized how honest he was being.

 

Theo was easy for him. Slightly older post grad student, good looking and an ambitious Alpha. He must admit that he was floored by the attention Theo paid to him—especially after losing his mother to cancer and simultaneously his father who plunged his life into work solely to escape the devastation of losing his mate, leaving a young and confused Stiles to fend for himself. He wouldn’t say his father was bad or anything just a victim of emotional depression (it is said that Alpha’s suffering is more after losing a mate compared to an Omega). His gender dysphoria (gender identity disorder) only added up making him all desolate and lonely despite having such good friends like Scott, Kira, Isaac, Allison and Liam. So who could blame him to grab onto the very first Alpha who showed interest in him after spending his whole high school teenage life pinning after the school jock, mister Alpha popular Derek Hale.

 

Even in those circumstances, Stiles was able to hold his ground, masking the weaker pieces of him and bringing out the bold. He made sarcasm his shield, maneuvering his life through the bitter harshness of society, because a child with single parent if not taken care could roll down the drain and end up on the wrong side of road.

 

So where did he lose himself. The Stiles Chutzpah. The Stiles who would kick ass and take names.

 

He made a fool of himself by running away like some scared cat or a stray puppy that’d been kicked. Kicked he was but his old self would double kicked the offender in retaliation.

 

So who the fuck died that he hightailed? What was he missing?

 

After getting engaged with Theo Stiles didn’t look back, got so consumed in the false happy bubble that he didn’t took notice of the alarm rather consciously avoided it. While trying to fit into Theo’s sophisticated life style, dinner parties, family rendezvous, he let the little parts of himself, his moxies chip away in the process.

 

He heard someone took a long drawn breath drawing his attention—a breath someone takes before they say something—Stiles wasn’t sure whether he would like it or not. “Are you going to mope all night?” He heard Liam talk for the first time tonight.

 

Stiles eyes found Liam seated across from him and he smiled his big ‘ol smile. “Who’s gonna mope. It’s Christmas and we’re going out to party.” And decides then and here that Theo Raeken wasn’t worth another moment of her time. Between his distant attitude the last few months and last night office worker made it all the more clearer when he’d been spending his fucking time.

 

“That’s we’re asking for.” Kira tucked her legs beneath her on the couch and draped her hand on Stiles’ shoulder on a sweet smile. “So what do you plan to do? Your choice.”

 

Stiles thought about it and shrugged. He didn’t plan anything to do tonight and looking at his situation his brain was not eager rather weary and wanted a fifty hour sleep before the feeling went away.

 

“How about The Hill.” Allison enthused, tucking Isaac under her arm where he snuggled closed to her side. Stiles’ heart soared as he stared that the only mated couple of the group. “There is a Christmas party going on. I got a couple of passes from one of my frat sisters.”

 

“We could do that.” Scott nodded looking at Kira who shrugged.

 

“As long as I don’t have to spank your drunken ass I’m cool.”

 

Scott gasped looking appalled.

 

Stiles chocked another swallow of wine. Some came out of his nose. He coughed and rubbed his forearm across his mouth wiping away the stray wine droplets.

 

Isaac doubled over tittering, earning a reproachful look from Scott before picking up a cushion and throwing it at Kira and she effortlessly caught it but the cushion brushed past Stiles’ wine glass jolting it and sloshing some of the liquid on his jeans, making him jerk and groan.

 

Allison managed to look unaffected pressing her lips. And Liam just rolled his eyes and went back to the TV. There were no hides about Scott and Kira’s bedroom attics, though it always amused Stiles to some degree that his curious mind had forced him to venture through some of the kinky sites on the internet which he must say left him all wet, needy, hot and fucking bothered.

 

Stiles tried and recovered from the shock then looking over at Kira told her. “You’re wicked and filthy.”

 

“It’s going down and dirty brother.” Isaac tutted and Scott’s shoulders slumped.

 

“Can we not talk about sex there, please?” Liam groaned, looking perplexed as he glanced away from the TV to his friends. “My heat is in next week and Mason is not here so spare me.”

 

Sighing Kira released Stiles and straightened herself out then looked at all her friends and smiled. “How about we go to After Hours.”

 

“What?” Scott blurted and Stiles thought he was about to faint.

 

What that? The look on Scott’s face piqued his interest thought he was completely against of winding up his best friends but curiosity got the better of him. “Am I gonna like that place?” He smirked egging her on.

 

Kira grin was impish and Stiles almost regret in seconds. “Fucking love that place.”

 

* * *

 

 Stiles confidence was wavering already.

 

The black tank top and jeans short he was wearing with knee length boots made his feel over-dressed. Stiles stood at the bar feeling out of place as he ogled the surrounding numbly. After Hours was an underground club opposite to old Bread Market where it seemed almost anything went.

 

Stiles’d always considered Kira to be a sweet and jolly Alpha but now as he absorbed all the leather clad bodies, latex thongs looking all sexy and fierce he was more than appalled... He was mortified. _Fuck! I need a cigarette._

 

Stiles picked up his glass and raised it to his lips, taking a slug straight down and the bitter taste of golden tequila smeared on his tongue, burned his throat and warmed his already heated body. His eyes moved scanning the area as he searched for Isaac and Allison and took precise notice of bevy of fierce looking women wearing latex dancing on the dance floor and his eyes bugged when he saw a man attached to a leash, cowering at woman. Then he watched in horror she raised something she was holding in her hand and brought it slapping down against the man’s buttock.

 

Scott approached the bar table glugging beer from a bottle. “Hey there all good.” The smirk was evident in his voice and he favoured with a coltish look.

 

Another shot glass appeared on the table from nowhere. “What the fuck is this place, Scotty?” He blurted looking at him wide eyed.

 

Scott slapped on the back almost dislodging a vertebra. “You’ll like it,” Scott replied eyes scanning the room. He tipped his beer bottle towards the open space beyond, and I follow.. “Look at that. Isn’t it hot?”

 

Stiles dubiously followed Scott’s indication to look and went beyond to where the beer bottle's mouth pointed at and sucked in a fucking breath because he felt he almost lost it. “Holy shit, dude.” He stared at the stage, a man hanging like he is crucified but his hands and legs were more like in X form—and completely naked showing of his hard-on with no inhibitions what so ever. Another man who was stood by the crucified man was lashing a whip on his chest. It was dark with neon violet lights so he couldn’t see properly but he was sure what he saw was something beyond him.

 

When Stiles realized he was staring transfixed at the scene unfolding on the stage, he painfully tore his eyes and realized a throbbing ache in his crotch as heat swamped his body. He was sure his cheeks were blushing red. _Fuck that’s definitely hot,_ and something more... dark... forbidden and full of... something he couldn’t point out.

 

As the evening processed, Stiles eyes swept the space as he saw stranger and stranger things. Things that could rob off someone’s sleep at night. It was a little like watching a horror film. He saw things that he didn’t want to see, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away. There was some part of him that felt oddly kind of connected with the people in there.

 

But those thought flew out of his head, in fact, every though flew from his head when he caught sight of a man and blinked.

 

Then he stared... And squinted as the man stared to walk towards him. Damn! Stiles wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol he’d consumed was messing with his eyesight or the light.

 

The man was tall. With the lighting all he could see and gather staring at the approaching body was that the man was wearing a leather jacket, a t-shirt maybe, dark jeans and boots.

 

As the man was somewhat fifteen feet away he noticed that and he was immediately taken by his face. His features, even mostly profile, were striking. Not perfection but so intensely masculine that he could only recall one man like that. I was almost unreal for him.

 

Even closer, Stiles noticed that the man was angry. It was not only etched in the hard line of his strong jaw, furrowing dark eyebrows, or his lips pressed together in unconcealed annoyance or his sharp gaze.

 

It was physical. A swell of vibrating heat filled the room. With some effort, tearing his eyes from the man Stiles saw those closest to the man as he past them had turned to look at him; some were even taking a few steps away to retreat.

 

He didn’t blame them. Even he could feel the oozing fury that left him shifting on the shot as his hand reached up to adjust the trap of his top. It was terrifying. He craned his neck and searched for his Alpha friends but they were all on the dance floor bumping and grinding oblivious of Stiles.

 

The Stiles felt a warm big palm grasped his thin wrist, his body jerked, head whipped around fearing maybe he’d caught some leather clad Dom’s attention. “Derek?” He squawked registering who the tall man was from before and his heart skipped few beats. His eyes widened in a clear but nonverbal, ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

 

Derek seemed to read Stiles’ mind because his jaw clenched hard enough that the muscles ticked— _okay not the best place to meet_ —Stiles considered blushing furiously— _oh shit he caught me in a BDSM club_. Derek lifted his eyes from Stiles and narrowed before sweeping them back and forth across the club. “What are you doing here?”

 

_Back at’cha buddy._

 

Stiles was busy dribble all over the place to voice his inner monologue as he stared up at Derek. He took notice of how good Derek had aged, all sharp features, tones muscles, broad shoulder and up this close he was really very tall at least four five inches taller than Stiles, considering he five feet ten.

 

Last time Stiles saw Derek he was wearing all black: black suit, black shirt, black tie. It was a funeral but Derek had always been partial to black and Stiles was glad because Derek looked good in it, even when he was a teenager, he usually wore tight, black t-shirt, black motorcycle boots and jeans. Stiles had noted this like he noted everything about Derek. And the difference he noticed that Derek looked more matured, more hard and muscular, skin more tan and had bread: not full and thick, but short and trimmed and it defiantly looked great on him.

 

It took little longer than normal for Stiles to realize what Derek just said but when he did, he looked around the club before back up to tensed jaws that had his dribbling morphed into panic. “Wh—why  ar—are you here?”

 

Derek’s scorching eyes flicked back to Stiles, chin tipped down and his dark brows knitted together more tightly. His close scrutiny doesn’t made Stiles feel uncomfortable and he ducked his head to avoid eye contact. “I’ve come here to take get you?”

 

 _Get me._ Stiles’ head snapped up and he frowned, confused. “Get me where?”

 

Derek eyes pinned Stiles to the spot as he grew impatient, then bought up his hand to look at the watch.  _When he got all this manpain,_ Stiles thought in slight amusement. “Lets go. Get the jacket.” Derek finally said jerking his head towards the table and Stiles hadn’t realised he was holding his breath as he exhaled to speak but Derek had already turned around to make a move.

 

Stiles yanked his hand back rubbing some life into it as pins and needles flared. “But where?” He asked then waved his hand towards the dance floor. Derek looked at him over his shoulder and followed his hand. “And I can’t just walk out of here bailing my friends without a solid reason.

 

Derek’s turned a glare on Stiles. “There is not time. You can text or call on our way.”

 

Stiles thought about it for a moment and found no reason to argue so he nodded and grabbed his jacket. “So where are you taking me.”

 

The glare turned scary as Stiles shrugged on his jacket. “Home.”

 

“Home w...?”

 

“Is that Derek Hale?”  Scott’s hand draped around his shoulder as he came to stand by his side and between Stiles and Derek little surprised.

 

“Very much in flesh.”  Stiles answered.

 

Derek eyes flicked to Scott’s hand, his jaw clenched again and his gaze moved to Scott's face. “You mind if Stiles leaves now?” He asked but it wasn’t really a question and this tone in his voice was downright frightening.

 

The arm around Stiles loosened which made him look at his friend who stepped back handing shoving into his jeans pocket. “Yeah sure. He is all your.”

 

Stiles frowned again, as he looked between Scott and Derek not sure what was happening as they both sized each other up. Deciding to cut in the crap he cleared his throat before clasping Scott’s shoulder and turning around to give him a hug. “See you tomorrow, man. Merry Christmas.”

 

Scott nuzzled his cheek against his ear, scenting him. “Be safe.”

 

“I’ll be safe.” He said and released Scott before jerking his thumb at Derek. “Macho man is there to save me.” And turning around to face the macho man whose eyes were on Scott and again eyebrow drawn together and lips tight— The famous look of annoyance for what god knew. “Shall we?”

 

Grunting his response, Derek took out his wallet from the back of his pocket and threw some bill on the table. “I hope it covers the tab.”

 

“Hey dude.” Scott shook his head and protested. “Really not necessary.”

 

Derek didn’t favour him a second look as he reclaimed Stiles hand and lead on, stopping only a few more paces into his determined stride to skirt around some people who was blocking their way. As they hit the curb and walked up pavement, he thought he should call his Dad

 

Feeling the headache throbbing around his temple, he massaged his forehead and flipped opening his phone squinting when the bright light of the screen hit his eyes. A town car pulled up making his look up, Derek held the door, he smiled his acknowledgment and saw Derek’s face softening as he slide into the car.

 

Leaning back into the soft seat he heavy a satisfied sigh and glanced at over to Derek when he shut the door beside him. He sensed tension rolled of his rigid postured, his hand was about to move but his device buzzed in his palm, signalling a Google alert.

 

**Google New: The Beacon Hills Sheriff—Jonathon Stilinski got shot during a hostage negotiation in the old warehouse area.**

 

Stiles’ alcohol fogged brain struggled to play catch-up. His world exploded into a million shards of devastation. ‘No! When? Where? How—’ Unknown questions swamped his mind as tearing he was holding back whole right drenched his cheeks. He took a shaky breath. With calm he suddenly didn’t feel he looked at Derek. “It’s Dad right.”

 

Derek turning in the seat angling so he could face Stiles. His face seemed to distort with pain as his eyes gauged Stiles closely, his throat bobbing on a swallow then he slowly nodded his answer. “He is going to be all right.” He took Stiles’ hand in his and squeezed. “You’ll get to him soon, babe”

 

Stiles shook Derek’s hands off and shoved myself back, away from Derek and his reach. “When it happened?” I asked quietly.

 

Derek hesitated, and then rubbed his face heaving a sigh. “In the evening.”

 

All built-up air in Stiles lungs rushing from his mouth on painful gasps as his eyes started to burn with the threat of guilty tears. All evening when he was drowning in self-pity, he dad was fighting for his life. He shook his head vigorously trying to dismiss all the horrid thoughts, hoping he could sum some courage to look at Derek, hoping that whatever he was listening would become a false imagination, hoping that his fiancé did not break up with him, hoping he’d someone to hold onto. He closed his eyes taking biting his lips to stop the retching sob but his treacherous mind conjured up images of his father’s bloodied body and a cry tore out of his throat.

 

 

* * *

 

“Tell me what happened?” I shouted as soon as we entered my apartment, feeling my sanity running away from me. Then he marched into his bedroom and yanked the sports bag out of the cupboard to begin stuffing what he could inside.

 

When Derek didn’t respond, he stopped and turned around to find him standing by the door-frame hands loosely tucked into his jeans pocket. “What?” He barked and turned back to continue his packing.

 

Stiles frantic packing was disturbed when the bag was taken from his hands and thrown to the floor. His emotions wouldn’t remain contained any longer. “What are you doing?” He screamed in Derek’s face, then proceed collect the bag but Derek caught him by his elbow and jerked him back.

 

“You’re not going back.” He was impassive and cool.

 

“What.” Stiles shouted, shocked and tried to yank his hand from Derek but the pressure around his elbow grew and Derek didn’t barge yanking Stiles into him. “Let me go. Asshole. I’ve to pack.”

 

“No you don’t.” Derek clipped in a cold tone. “We’re not going now.”

 

“You asshole, you asshole, you asshole!” Stiles screamed striking him again, his frustration building at Derek unresponsive approach. “Why can’t I go! Why you came” Both fists were working now, repeatedly hitting Derek in the chest. Stiles had lost control of his emotions and his flailing body. He just wanted to lash out and Derek was the only thing in his proximity. “Why?” He fell into his chest, exhausted and overcome with grief. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Derek held his weak body up, one hand cupping the back of his head, pushing him into his chest, the other working soothing circles into his lower back. Derek hushed repeatedly, kissed over and over on top of his head until his sobs abate and Stiles was left snivelling sporadically into his shoulder.

Later around mid-night when sleep didn’t come, Stiles was sat in front of the TV staring blankly at the wall beyond the screen—elbows on his knees and palms clasped tightly against his trembling mouth. He didn’t know how he was sitting so still, when all he wanted was to haul Derek and rash to the airport. The invisible spot he was staring at blurred when a fresh tears spill down his eyes. His shoulder shaking with silent sob, chest expanding on heaves.

 

“What’s this?” Derek voice broke into his chaotic thoughts, and he lifted my heavy eyes watching Derek through the blur.

 

“I hate you.” Stiles spited the hurtful words with total sincerity.

 

“What the fuck is this?” Derek asked again, still weirdly pissed off and still glaring angrily at Stiles and thrust his hand at his direction.

 

A red mist engulfed Stiles and he stood up and stumbled past Derek, sprinting across the lounge to his bedroom. His legs were moving fast, in time to my thundering heart, taking his away from away from Derek into the bathroom and he slammed the door behind him.

 

As he stood in the middle of his bathroom, his head fell into his palms, darkness and hiding might drag him from my nightmare. He didn’t understand Derek’s behaviour; he was getting deranged in nanoseconds for no reason. He didn’t remember him to be like that. When they were young Derek was always so sweet to him, his had this warmth in his sparkling green eyes and his sexy baritone that made Stiles melt like a ice-cream melts on a waffle cone.

 

The door was wrenched open, making Stiles swung around on a yelp as he found Derek stood there, breathing heavy, and looking wild. Then one second, he was several feet away from him. The next, he was right there, bent over and his shoulder slammed straight into Stiles’ belly, he lifted up and started moving, taking Stiles with him.

 

Stiles let out, a surprised scream, hands flailing, legs kicking in the air, so Derek’s arm wrapped around the backs of his thighs. The crossed the lounge and walked into the room before he was thrown on the bed

 

Stiles landed on the mattress on a ‘woomph’ and bounced few times before he settled, panting and wide eyes as he stared at Derek in shocked. “Derek, what’s wrong?” He yelled alarmed watching Derek pace in front of the door-frame like a caged animal.

 

Then he shoved his hands into his hair and cursed then shook his head scrubbing his face with his hands before turning to face Stiles. “Who is fucking you?”

 

All Stiles could do was blinking... Once... Twice... Then several times, his mind short-circuiting. “What?” He spluttered in disbelieve because he was sure Derek didn’t just ask that. When wild angry Derek didn’t answer, he gingerly straighten up, bent his legs tucking beneath his ass before sitting on his heels. “What are you talking about?” He whispered, unsure of what else to say.

 

“Who is fucking you, Stiles?” Derek repeated, green eyes turning dark, making him look more dangerous.

 

Stiles gulped some air, averting his eyes and shifted to sit his butt down on the bed, legs pulled back. His lips again started to tremble. “Why are you asking?”

 

Stiles again yelped his heart stuttering, when Derek was on the bed, cupped his face and made his look up. But Stiles had his eyes clinging shut. He wasn’t ready to face Derek like this when he was failing to understand what was happening. “Look at me, Stiles.” He ordered, his voice had dipped low, sounded less pissed off now and more gentle and affectionate. Like Old Derek.

 

Stiles got hold of his lingering courage to look up and confronted Derek with tear-drenched eyes. “This isn’t the time for all.” He pleaded, desperately. “My Dad is in the hospital. Why are you doing his?” The lump in Stiles throat exploded, choking him, and he bit down on his lip to stop a sob from slipping past his lips. Stiles was pretty sure, he would have sold his soul to the devil to have Derek this close to him, but not now, not under this hysterical situation.

 

“You’re Dad is fine. He is out of danger. But this.” Derek released Stiles’ face, waving up and down his body. “I want to know who.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because, because.” He growled at himself, a defeatism scowl crawled his pain face.

 

“Because?” Stiles pushed whispering his demand and his heart started racing for some other reason. His Dad’s lowdown did nothing to sooth his grown concern—concern edging a different direction all together. He was able to puzzle it out. His fucking mind was a whirlwind now.

 

Derek’s eyes searched his face, drifting back and forth between his eyes before they stopped at Stiles’ lips. “You.” Derek replied softly, suddenly warmth returning into those gorgeous green eyes.

 

 _Words Derek Word_. Stiles tried to will his words to Derek like some psycho and sighed feeling miserable. “Me”

 

Derek nodded. “Yes. You.”

 

Stiles watched, fascinated as his eyes dropped his lips and stayed there. He got so lost that he could think clearly or the little rationality he had, completely flew out the window of his bedroom, getting lost in the moment, so lost that he licked his lips.

 

“Shit.” Derek breathed his eyes dreamily like drifted up to meet Stiles’ eyes. “Beautiful.”

 

Stiles sucked in a breath. “Oh!”

 

“Tell me, please.”

 

“What?”

 

“Who has touched you?”

 

“Theo.”

 

Derek’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Who?” His voice thundered.

 

Stiles blinked and, self-preservation snapped back and realization hit him like sledgehammer, making him jerk as he backed up slightly from the predatory look Derek was giving.

 

And just like that the moment broke.

 

“Fuck!” Derek roared, expletive bounces around the wall, hitting Stiles from every direction, making him cower on the spot. He released a throaty whimper; his Omega instincts taking over and making him bare his neck to appease the Alpha.

 

Derek sprang out of the bed, “Fuck fuck fuck.” He turned swayed towards the closed door his fist thrown into the back of it, splintering the glossy wood, making his knuckles split open.

 

“Derek.” Stiles yell, scramble out of the bed and rushed to his side grabbed his shoulder without a second thought. He had no idea what to say, and he certainly couldn’t fathom what was happening to Derek. “Are you insane?”

 

“Why?” Derek whispered, brokenly.

 

Stiles blinked frowning, “What?”

 

Derek took Stiles hand, turning to his side looking at him with green tortured eyes. “Why did you. Why didn’t you wait?”

 

 _Oh my Goodness!_ A merely seconds after the words were spoken, realisation crushed onto Stiles, making him pale and eyes wide. His pulse bursting through his eardrums, making his dizzy and disorientated. He stagged back and Derek fell to his knees. Then to his shock he saw Derek’s broad shoulders quaking. And Derek Hale cried – massive, body-jerking sobs.

 

Stiles felt useless. He tried to speak his name, but achieve nothing but an agonised gasp as his knees buckled making him join Derek on the floor. His looked dropped to his floor and his fists tightened on his thighs. Even in his life he had thought Derek would confess his feeling like this, or neither had he ever imagined he would know Derek harboured non-platonic feeling for him.

 

Good lord what was happening to him.

 

All his childhood, all his ever wanted was Derek. The boy dressed in black who rode a motorcycle. The boy of his dreams. The boy who he thought that one day would be his Alpha but his hopes were crushed when Derek started to go around with local omegas in high school and then he was completely devastated when Derek started to dated Kate Argent.  

 

He was a skinny, mousy brown hair, hyperactive omega who had Gender Dysphoria who had nothing to offer to someone like Derek, the Alpha prime of BHH.  The second Alpha of the Hale family after his twin sister Laura Hale.

 

He could sympathise with Derek, because maybe right now how he was feeling Stiles felt liked that ten years ago and the thought made him little angry—because Derek had no right to be behave all wounded. Stiles had waited for him, watched him jump from one omega to the other, craved and cried, then suddenly after his father’s mysterious death Derek’d vanished from Beacon Hills, at last Stiles had seen his in that funeral where for the first time Derek had hugged him. And now after five fucking years he’d the gal to waltz back into his life like some tornado demanding his purity.

 

A lifetime passed. He hesitated, for a moment, wanting to run, and then he took a deep breath before gathering his so fucking lost bearing and attempting to break the unnerving silence. “You don’t mean that.” Stiles said quietly and kept staring at Derek numbly as he continued to sob. So Stiles began to wonder if he’ll ever stop. Then after another wave to time rolled by, Derek lifted his injured hand and roughly brushes over his stubbled cheeks, replacing the tears with smears of blood. His head rose, revealing a blemished face and green eyes rimmed in redness.

 

“You know, I’ve seen many assholes in life but not a single one like you. You are a piece of work Derek.” With that said he stood up on shaky leg and padded out of the room. As he was near the kitchen, he remembered something, so taking a u-turn he went back in his bedroom making Derek’s head snap up. The flashes of guilt and sadness on his made Stiles stop for a miniscule but he recovered quickly enough. “Do you have cigarettes?”

 

Derek’s looked taken aback, not expecting Stiles to say something like that then he shook his head like a school boy who had been scolded which made Stiles almost but... almost because he didn’t. Instead he spun on his heels groaning. _“_ Fucking _Hale!”_ And flew out of the room.

 

 

* * *

 

 Sometimes in the evening next day, Stiles found himself being led though the double door of the ER and down several winding corridors. He had no idea how he really got to the ICU. But somehow, that’s where he ended up with Derek hot on his heels.

 

Stiles heart refusing to ease up with its steady thumps. The heat of the ward hit him like a sledgehammer and the smell of antiseptic polluted his nose. A gentle nudge in my back from Derek encouraged him to take the handle, and after loading his lungs with much-needed air, Stiles turned the knob and pushed his way into the room.

 

Beep... Beep... Beep...Beep...

 

That was the first sound that hit Stiles’ ears as he slide into the room gingerly and he heard Derek locked door before his soft yet determined footsteps inched closer until it was right behind him and stopped.

 

 As he got closer, he reminded himself to breathe, but nothing could’ve prepared him for what he was about to see. I stopped one, took a deep breath as he felt Derek stop right beside him. Slowly he turned his head to look at him, and was the mountain of a man wasn’t looking any better than he was feeling, his shoulders were slouching like he bored the weight of the earth on him, his bread were not trimmed, there was crinkles at the corner of his mouth and the warm green eyes looked dull and lifeless.  

 

He looked down and reaching out for Derek’s hand and laced their fingers before looking up to see Derek’s eyes were on their linked hand. Feeling Stiles’ gaze he glanced up at him and few beats later gave a nod of reassurance.

 

Licking his lips nervously his legs moved as he crept into the room. The centre of the room had a lone bed surrounded by various equipments. But it was the man lying on the bed, flat on his back, with stark, white bed sheets around his waist, and that had Stiles staggering back but Derek’s arms wrapped around his waist. stabling him. “He looks so pale, Derek.” Stiles whispered, his tone was accusatory, as though he blamed his dad for not being more careful, for not looking after himself and his hand flew up cupping around his mouth as he let out a quite sob. “God, he looks so pale.” He cried muffled into his palm.

 

He felt Derek bury his face into his hair and sniffed before rubbing his mouth. “Calm down, babe. He needs you to be strong. You’ve to be strong.”

 

 He knew he’d to be strong but as he stared at his Dad, arms lying still by his sides. One had an IV attached into the back of his palm, blue clamp on his index finger, connected to the monitor, reading his BP, pulse rate, and a green wave indicating that he was alive and fighting for his life. There were other convoluted tubes attached to his chest and a thick pick jammed into his mouth and other complicated machines and the big white bandage coving his torso with smudge red spot and they were enough to make Stile dry heave.

 

“I can’t believe that it happened?” Derek gruff voice, had Stiles turned his neck to look up and all he could see us the underside of Derek’s bread chin, the length of his neck as the adman’s apple bobbing with each hard swallow he took. Then his felt his hard chest expanding against his back as he took a very deep breath and exhaled slowly and little shakily. “Come let get up seated and I’ll go out to have a talk with the guards.”

 

Stiles brought his eyes to the bed and nodded slowly as Derek took him by the bed and collect a chair before making his seat and then walking out of the ICU.

 

He was sitting in a recliner by the room, staring silently at the men on the bed and had his arms wrapped around himself as he slowly rubbed his palm to warm his suddenly cold and prickling skin. Whether it was the sight present before him or the air-condition made his feel like that, he wasn’t sure and decided to bring jacket with himself.

 

Dropping his hands, he scooted to the edge of the seat and took hold of his father limp hand. Surprisingly, it was warm, and Stiles lowered his face and kissed on the knuckle and nuzzled his felt his body start to shake and tears started to roll down his cheeks blurring his father pale face. “After you go home from here all unhealthy crap you eat are going to stop coming.” He murmured against the knuckles and as he wasn’t expecting a response so he carried on with his ranting that feel to dead ears. “You remembered last year when you heart stuttered a little and you got admitted? I should’ve come back home then and took care of you.” Closing his eyes, he squeezed the hand. “They told me you got h—hit my t-three bu—bullets.” He snuffled, a lifted his head a little to whip his snot away with the back of his palm before he reclaimed his position. “Dad, you remember, the first time I confessed to that I was a boy not a girl.” He turned his face, pressing the other cheek on his hand and smile ruefully. “The look on you face was to die for. But when you recovered from the shock you told me that you’ll always be there with me when ever I’ll need you.” He choked out the words, the barb of emotions clogging in his throat making it hard to talk. “I need you Dad, Theo broke our engagement. I need you and your not there. Please wake up for me.” He sobbed.

 

“Babe.” Derek soft voice made his jolt into awareness as he woke up, yawing and stretched his arms. He could feel the kink loosing away from his tensed muscles. His eyes creped open to find warm greens hovering over him as Derek brushed lazy bangs away from his face and smiled mildly. “Time to go home.” The warmth in his voice had his melt in the hospital on a satisfied sigh.

 

“What is the time?”He croaked voice heavy from sleeping.

 

“It’s almost seven.” Derek straightened up from where he was bent and moved around the bed to collect Stiles coat. “You hungry?” He returned to Stiles’ side and held up the coat.

 

“May be.” Stiles replied nonchalantly blowing out a tired breath as he stood up and turned his back to let Derek help him shrugging on the coat— _Derek must have brought it_ —before tuning around to face him.

 

Derek clasped his both shoulder and to Stiles’ surprise he leaned in kissing chastely on his forehead and sighed “Let get you home then.”

 

 _Home, that sounds nice_ —Stiles thought wistfully, as Derek tucked him into his side and lead him out of the hospital and onto the street. They walked some distance, neither of them said anything—maybe they were both exhausted at least Stiles was but Derek’s tense posture said something else. They hadn’t yet talked about last night episode, Stiles was thankful neither of them brought it up.

 

When they stopped by of Derek’s Camaro as he walked around to the driver’s seat pulling out the keys to the door. Stiles scuffed his shoe on the ground and turning his neck he looked all around him and peered at Derek. “Do you have cigarettes?” He muttered quietly.

 

“No?” Derek bleeped the door with a raised brow which made Stiles blush, looking away. “Get in,”

 

His voice slid like silk across his skin and it took him a minute to recapture his train of thought and I look up, frowned. “I want cigarettes.” He demanded.

 

Derek halted half bent as he was getting in the car then emerged back up. Leaning forward he folded his arms and drummed his fingers on the roof, regarding him and smirked. “Smoking is injurious to health, babe now get your ass in the car or I will make you.”

 

 Stunned by the threat, “Are you kidding.” He spluttered, not knowing what else to say.

 

He rolled his eyes, stunning Stiles even further. “No, babe”

 

Stiles’ frown turned to a scowl. “Don’t call me babe.” He snapped.

 

“I will” Derek said voice resolute and sighed then shook his head. “Could you get in the car now?”

 

Stiles backed up few steps and folded his arms petulantly. “No, I can go home alone.”

 

 Derek’s body tensed, narrowing eyes turns dark and dangerous. “Thee.” He stepped back, slammed the door and slowly moved around the car towards him.

 

“What?” Stiles blurted, startled. What was he doing? What one.

 

“Two.” Derek chipped staking forwards that had Stiles move back further away from the car.

 

Stiles narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Are giving me the countdown?”

 

“Yes, no get in the car.” His tone was cool and casual, while Stiles was stunned, stepping back, slighting increasing his pace.

 

“No.”He shook his head. “I want cigarettes.”

 

Before he could anticipate Derek next move, he broke into a full sprint and Stiles yelped, swung around and dashed off in the opposite direction. People were staring as he weaved through the other parked cars in the car park like a deranged madman. But something exploded near vibrating the ground under his feet making his stumble and fall on a fearful cry. He heard Derek roar his name, and then there was debris flying, dust clouding around him.

 

He felt his coat bunch against his back as he was hauled up to his feet before strong arms wrapped around his waist and he was being dragged. Freaked out, his finger clawed on the arm and leg pumping, kicking on the ground, twisting in the hold and screaming bloody murder until he was hiding behind a pillar back slamming against the stone wall and face smashing into a hard chest. “Leave me?” He cried out, hands pushing onto to chest. He wriggled and twisted in the confinement until his head raised and saw Derek, whose face was turned as he was peeking around the pillar.

 

He didn’t ask anymore, turn his face down and tucked himself tightly against Derek all the while machine gunfire blasted and dust, plaster, debris flew from everywhere. He could hear people screaming and cars theft alarm going off blurting over the rounds of thundering guns.

 

He was pretty certain he was going to die and wished he’d at least got the chance to kiss Derek and saw his dad well and healthy. Seconds, minutes, hours—he wasn’t sure, how long they were hiding and guns firing around in the parking lot, until finally the noise stopped.

 

He blinked couple of times, he heart ready to burst out of his chest and tried to gather his bearing but when he couldn’t find anything to say, he stayed still.

 

Derek didn’t move even after the firing had stop, just kept him tucked tight and then it hit him that Derek was shielding him and his wasn’t moving.

 

Fuck, fuck fuck.

 

Panicked eyes snapped up searching. His hands gripping the front of Derek’s shirt jerked, pulling him as close as close. “Derek?” He gulped in some air, breathing harshly. “Derek!”  Alarm etched his voice and then sweet relief, Derek’s head tilted down.

 

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Derek panting above him.

 

Every thought left his mind.

 

After that everything was blurring, as he slumped body was yanked and was pulled through the mess of bullet-hole car, dust, smoke, hysteric people. He didn’t resist. He barely registered the cop siren coming from somewhere before he was bundled into the car carefully. Sat like a statue, immobilised by shock and blankly stared thought the windshield completely dazed, Derek jogged across the parking lot to meet the cops. Stiles couldn’t hear what they were talking but his hands made a show of what might just had transpired, he looked frantic as he spoke with the cops. Then he jogged back rounded the car and slide in the passenger seat.

 

“I’m taking you home.” Derek grounded and Stiles this time didn’t dare to protest but now he could smoke a fucking full packet.

 


	2. Chapter 2

As Derek Hale sat in the hospital waiting room, he tried to wrap his mind around the fact; larger-than-life, whiskey-drinking, no-bullshit-taking mentor currently lay in a hospital bed, attached to a host of beeping machine and wires.

 

He partially blamed himself for putting his Boss in such situation. Never in his life, had he thought that a simple negotiation would lead into something like this. When the dispatch had called for an emergency he was pretty much sure, negotiating with a junky hostage taker would be piece of cake—he was trained for it and one of the best in the department. He knew all the knick knacks, the signs before the bad move, then why did he fail—sheer bad luck he would like to call it. The situation got out of control before Derek could comprehend and determine his next move and then desperate measures at desperate times, missing his aim and shit went tumbling down the drain.

 

It was a matter of seconds, he was standing there, talking as softly as possible, and his bad temper under tight leash. He’d full control of the situation, then out of now where a gun fired, the hostage girl screamed. The junky pulled out his gun aiming at the girl; Derek turned his neck when he heard Jordan shout and before he could do anything an errand bullet pierced through the Sheriff.

 

He was getting though the hostage taker, everything was down and mellow, he was getting around, the hostage taker was minutes away from surrendering the teenage girl then one bad move, led to the cluster fuck of mistakes, if only he’d seen that the junking was playing with them using reverse physiology, waiting for the thin line of error to find his escape.

 

If the Sheriff was hurt right now he would have given a small round of applause for the junky and his tricky mind, he’d to say the junky had totally got them by the bull.

 

The Sheriff being in the hospital wasn’t the only problem he was shouldering—there were other two: one the shootout and the department had no clue as it why it happened, but they were certain who could’ve caused it and problem two: the Sheriff’s son—one of the biggest problems of Derek’s life... no... Okay he wouldn’t call it a problem but a sweet torture, a torture so sweet that he was use going to have diabetes induced heart attack. A torture that had him woke up in the morning with a hard-on.

 

Five years. Five fucking years of morning wood, and endless fantasies about someone he didn’t even want. Well that wasn’t completely true. He wanted him. He wanted Stiles more than any omega he’d ever. The only problem was Derek hated his situation. Well maybe not… no, he hated him. He was one of the biggest bitch Derek’d ever met.

 

And Stiles hated him too—like really hated him. The snarky little twat all he’d ever asked for Derek was cigarettes. In all his 28 years, Derek had never met someone who pushed his buttons like his bosses son. When they were young—the little omega had been a mystery for him, too mainly layer to unfold and he knew, could sometimes see, the golden-brown eyes melting like hot chocolate whenever Derek had been near him or smiled at him. Everything was very simple when they were young. Derek knew the Omega was off limits, someone he really didn’t want to mess around with and then willing be hand cuffed to jail.

 

But now, his smell, all the creamy white skin, his short brunnett hair, pretty moles, long delicate limbs, girly eye-lashes, the cute upturn nose, the perfectly pouty, lush, pink lips and those golden-brown eyes. God everything called for Derek, just one touch would leave his so fucking undone.

 

Just his name made Derek’s dick to twitch.

_Fucking traitor_. He glanced around the pale yellow, devoid of character walls and desperation trying to find something that would help his woody to go down, knowing, Jonathan wouldn’t appreciate him like that. It was his dick that got Derek into this mess to begin with. He rubbed his hands across my face and sat up. _What the fuck was I going to do?_

 

He’d managed it for five fucking years. And it had worked. Keeping his distance, never made any inappropriate move to make Stile feel the relationship they shared was anything other than platonic, hell, even Derek would admit he’d been a bastard—jumping from one omega to another just to make Stiles see that he wasn’t interested in him, despite how the glow used get lost in those golden-brown eyes, how lost Stiles used to look. And then he just lost it.

 

All it took was one moment, seeing him sitting in some BDSM, with nothing to cover his lean body, except some jeans shorts and a thin top, all silky skin exposed for other to devour  and that was a bummer for him. Shock would be an understatement about how Derek’d felt then. He saw fucking red and with a single minded aim, he had to take Stiles away from there and he stalked towards the Omega.

 

The instant their eyes meet he had left something crackle in the air and he metally puffed his chest when Stiles didn’t take his eyes off him, he could see, the alertness in them, then fleeting emotion but he had also seen them melt—Stiles maybe thought he was being discreet but he was anything but—and Derek would have let Stiles see every fucking inch of his body, only he had to do was say that.

 

Then the son of a bitch McCall popped out of nowhere. Derek hated that Alpha, hate that he could so easily touch Stiles without any consequences to face, hated that they were close, and had been hating him ever since high school because he was the biggest reason Derek had always backed out. Not that he was scared of the Scott McCall, Derek just wanted to be in Stiles’ goodbooks and fighting with McCall would mean the complete opposite—he knew that and hated Scott even more.

 

But what made him snap was the picture of a good looking Alpha kissing Stiles—he didn’t intend to go all deranged Alpha on Stiles but he couldn’t help himself—Stiles was meant to be his and seeing him with someone else did something to him and he realised how Stiles must have felt when he used see Derek with random omegas.

 

When they were young, Derek always wanted to be part of Stiles’ life but now not only did he want to be a part but he wanted him in his bed—so in short this life was screwed.

 

After his father’s death—again Derek would blame only himself, hadn’t he dated the bitch Kate Argent, his father would have still lived and his life wouldn’t have fallen apart. Maybe things between Stiles and him would’ve been different too. He wouldn’t had to go under the radar for five years, doing things he never thought he would do; he could’ve been someone different, someone less angry to the world, less brooding, less intimidating, little less fucked up. Someone who Stiles deserved to have as his Alpha and not someone like him.

 

Losing his father had changed Derek and when everybody says that people choose hostage negotiation as a career but for Derek, his career had chosen him.

 

After surfacing, four years ago, because of his specialization and practical knowledge in the field of negotiation, Sheriff had taken him under his wings to learn the ropes and despite him coming from the wrong side of the road, he fully trusted Derek. Since then, he’d witnessed Jonathan negotiate dozens of hostage situations and resolved quite a few of his own and somewhere along the line, his mentor had become his friends, despite the gap in their age. Although if an outside happened to overhear a typical conversation between them, he might assume they were enemies. Friends didn’t come easy to either of them, and it was with a grudging respect that they operated together so well. He still had a lot to learn from Jonathan and the most important lesson would: how to tackle some big mouthed snarky Omega—which he didn’t see coming easily either.

 

Derek wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge exactly where an early retirement from Jonathan would leave him. He was sure Jordan Parrish would be elected as the next Sheriff but him at the age to twenty-eight; he would be the primary hostage negotiator of ESU in Beacon Hills and he wasn’t ready to take up job when he’d other things to solve in his life—majorly Stiles and his relationship. So after two day of pussy footing around Stiles, avoiding very possible clash, he was relieved when he got the phone call that Jonathan had at last gained consciousness.

 

Grabbing his leather jacket from the spare chair, Derek pushed to his feet and left the waiting room with the intension to find Stiles. Stiles was right, sitting still did nothing to help ease anxiety. As he passed the front desk, subtly avoiding the nurse who’d been smiling at him ever since they arrived which he realised with amusement had pissed Stiles off and he was seconds away from punching the smiling face. Obviously Derek preferred to be safe and didn’t want Stiles to get his image of a manwhore. Although sleeping with faceless and nameless omega was a course of live he’d learned to live with and empty exchange that would help him numb his mind for an hour, but leave him feeling worse once it ended and how all that empty exchange had effected Stiles and his relationship, a relationship he couldn’t name but wanted to with primal need so deep that was burning his insides whenever he was around the unclaimed omega.

 

Rounding the corner he marched towards the double door the of general ward and wondered fleetingly what stood in his away. Three people. A, the person lying in the bed hooked on too beeping machine. B, Stiles himself. C, that unnamed Alpha kissing Stiles in the picture. 

 

 

Derek easy stride came to an abrupt halt, when he saw him and ever thought flew out of his mind, just like it always does. He couldn’t help the smile that turned up the corner of his lips. _God he is going to be my death._

 

Staring through the glass of the vending machine, lips wrapped around the plastic straw as Stiles slurped his drink. Teeth came out nibbling the hollow bent tube, crushing the round mouth before exquisite pink tongue, peeked out flirting around and pulled the straw inside.

 

So many thoughts crashed through Derek’s mind. The things that tongue could done, the things he wanted. He wanted to taste Stiles, to see if he would be as delicious as he was in the dreams. How would it feel having those lush lips wrapped around his cock, while Stiles would be kneeling in front of him and Christ how deliciously depraved he would look.

 

Derek’s eyes travelled down the mouth, drinking in the exposed cream skin, moles scattered along the length of his long neck then the bare arm. He would love to lick his way and count how many are hiding beneath tank top. Derek nearly groaned out loud that the thought of finding them.

 

A frown of disapproval cross his face, when he took notice of the red flush on the cheek facing him and shivering goose bumps appearing on the mouth-watering skin and lack of warm clothes as though Stiles was torturing himself by wearing less clothes in winter. What was with him, wearing tank tops, sandals and jeans shorts? Derek did a mental head shake and thought he would change it, even if it didn’t snow in Beacon Hills, he couldn’t let Stiles wear those scanty clothes and fall ill.

 

Barely conscious of his moving feet, Derek started toward him, his sole intention to cover up the omega. Stiles posture hinted at fatigue and grief and all he wanted to kiss... no make it better... for now. It shocked Derek that how much instinctual he would get, aiming to be a better provider and protector for Stiles.

 

As he got closer and draped his jacket over the bony shoulders before taking a few steps back. The Omega needed little fattening up. Derek made a mental note of it too... Maybe a mating propel in the end.

 

_God fuck him sideways._

 

Stiles startled eyes gaze flew up to meet his. Flashing bright purple and a rush of air blew out of his mouth on a gasp. The facade was gone for the briefest of moment, before it fell back to its place just as quickly and wide golden-brown eyes narrowed getting curious, flicking down to check the jacket then back up on Derek.

 

Talking to Omegas was like second nature to Derek, yet he found himself stand in silence, gaping at the beauty who was slurping on the smoothie and second-guessing everything that popped into his head. _Say something idiot._

 

“Take a picture it’ll last long.” Derek blurted and instantly wanted to smash his head through the vending machine. _Real smooth Hale._

 

Curious eyes widened in shock as though they were caught doing something forbidden and moved away back to the vending machine and dainty fingers tugging at the collar of the jacket. “Take picture of what?” Stiles muttered around the straw as it slide to the corner of his mouth before he started chewing on it. _Fuck_.  Derek could just lick the spreading blush across the stretch of the pale neck till the tip of the ears. Okay maybe not a smooth move but helpful nonetheless.

 

Derek took last few steps closer and leaned against the vending machine, arms crossed over his chest and ankles crossed, with a hint of smile. “Whatever fancies your eyes, babe?”

 

He blatantly come-on gave Stiles pause, eyes flicked from the glass to meet Derek’s, they stayed there and narrowed on him, but he played along. “I didn’t get my phone. You’ve your?”

 

“Sure.” Derek replied pulling out his phone from his pocket before giving it to Stiles, who took it and turned around before getting close enough that his back was touching Derek’s front.

 

Biting his tongue Derek suppressed a hiss. The wolf in him let out a happy whine.

 

“Smile, sourwolf. Stiles urged him and held up the phone screen facing their way.

 

For a briefest second, Derek went still on a slight frown of confusion as he silently observed Stiles thumbing across the screen to open the camera app before he softly nudged his elbow into Derek’s abdomen, making eyes snap from the screen to his face. “Aren’t you gonna smile?”

 

He contemplated briefly then went on. “Is this big enough of a smile for you?” Using it as an excuse to lean closer to him, Derek dipped his head until his face was right beside Stiles’, catching his all earthy, sunshine scent and inhaling deeply. “Say cheese, babe.” He smiled at Stiles. He wanted to take one more step to press himself against the omega’s back, let him feel the potent effect he was having on Derek. How would he react? Derek thought. Christ, he needed to reel it back a little. They were standing in the middle of a well-lit hallway and he could barely restrain his twitching hands from wrapping it around the slender waist of its owner, pulling closer if possible and bury his nose in the sweet curved crook of the neck.

 

Stiles chuckles softly on a roll of his eyes and tipped his head to Derek’s side bumping and said, “Cheese,” flashing his all pearly white teeth and clicked on the screen. The picture of shutter closing appeared on the screen, and opened capturing their sickeningly sweet smiling faces; Stiles’ head against Derek’s smiling face.

 

“Perfect.” Derek declared, breathily, looking at their photo and feeling stupid fluttering in his stomach. It was a strange feeling for him but a beautiful one.

 

Stiles hummed his agreement on a mild nod, before he moved away taking three steps forward, turning and handing back his phone. Derek winced inwardly, immediately missing the heat from the body and the sweet warm smell.  “That will last longer than the memory.” Stiles said softly then crouched to grab his satchel and slung it around his shoulder. “Let’s go meet the impatient Sheriff. Shall we?” He turned on his heels and sauntered away tossing the empty plastic cup into the garbage bin.

 

Derek watched for a moment, the light sway of Stiles’ jeans short clad ass. His mouth went dry and he might have groaned out loud at the sight of the soft round swell and the creamy skin that followed south. He could only imagine how it would feel to have his hands on them, holding and kneading the soft flesh.

 

Tucking his all of a sudden clammy hands into his pocket, Derek followed Stiles and stopped in front of the nurse station where Stiles’d to ask the nurse after Jonathan’s health reports.

 

Derek took the moment and glanced around the hallway, up and down. He’d noticed before but now he did and found four officers were on guard. Two posted near the door. And Boyd and Erica dressed in casuals were loitering in the hall. Form years of practice he knew the look all on their face. Although for general people they might look some patient’s relatives waiting outside the ward but for him, he could see them all sharp, alert and vigilant.

 

If he hadn’t been with Stiles, he would have gone to Boyd and Erica to talk about the situation but he thought otherwise. He wanted Stiles to be calm and relaxed when he would visit his father and it would make him anxious knowing about the tight security

 

When Derek’s eyes locked with Boyd, he gave him a subtle nod which was returned to him curtly. Good, now that the Sheriff had regained consciousness and was under the watchful eyes of the department’s best officers, Derek could concentrate on Stiles and his security.

 

A pat on his shoulder made his turned around and soon the sweet and warm scent curled around him. “Yes?” He asked and registered faint worry line on Stiles’ forehead. “Is everything okay?”

 

Stiles shook his head and expelled a long weary sigh. “Dad has to stay for two weeks, until the doctor says otherwise.”

 

Derek smiled. “I know how much Jonathan hates this place but staying a week and getting checked will only help him heal fast.”

 

Something dimmed behind those brown eyes. “It’s good for him but I can’t stay here for that long.”

 

His smile disappeared. A sudden thought occurred to Derek then, blackening his mood. For all he knew, an Omega can’t stay away from his Alpha for long. If Stiles had mated to the basted in the picture, it would explain the forlorn expression. He felt a sharp jolt of jealousy. Closing the distance between them, he didn’t stop until Stiles needed to tip his head back in order to maintain eyes contact. “You don’t want to stay to look after your father?”

 

Stiles’ eyes narrowed at his harsh tone, but he answered anyway. “Of course, I would look after my Dad. He is all I have.”

 

Relief calmed him, but not nearly enough. “They why won’t you stay here?” _Stay with me_. He didn’t say the last part aloud.

 

Something flickered in those brown eyes that Derek couldn’t fathom. “I-I don’t like hospitals.” Stiles replied quietly and looked away from him.

 

“What?” Derek was more confused now. He didn’t understand. Stiles didn’t like hospitals? He was sure nobody liked hospitals and being constantly assaulted by the sick smell of sterilizers and antiseptics. When Stiles didn’t understand immediately he asked again. “What do you mean?”

 

Stiles’ eyes flicked back to his, searching, then he pursed his lips. Derek knew the look—agitation. But for what? “My mom... She died...”

 

Derek recoiled. “Oh.” He tamped down the urge to smile that his curiosity was satisfied—Stiles wouldn’t go because of some Alpha but because he felt lost being in the hospital because of his mother. Relief and embarrassment floored him making him to take a step back. God he was a horrible person and chided himself for that. Stiles would never let it past him if he even dared to smile over such sensitive issue. “I’m sorry.” He muttered tucking his hands into his pocket

 

“It’s okay.” Stiles wrapped his arms around his middle, brown eyes scanning the hallway. He looked nervous. Derek wanted the teasing smirk on his face; he didn’t mean to upset him. Damn, his ill temper.

 

Stiles shook his head dropping his hands from his middle. “Don’t make the sour face.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Sour face?”

 

“Yes. This.” Stiles lifted his hand, a finger pointing at him and circled over his face. “When you’re angry your eyebrows furrow so deep that you’ll have wrinkles.”

 

His brows pulled together. “My eyebrows aren’t that bad.”

 

“Nope.” Stiles tilted his head on a teasing smirk as his thumb drifted over his frown. “They’re good.”

 

He gave up the battle with his smile, grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer. He saw Stiles smirk slipped away, eyes locked with his and when he lowered his head, mouth inches away from his, he felt him tremble. “And what else is good about me?”

 

Derek caught Stiles’ sharp intake of breath, brown eyes dropped to his lip and stayed then tongue flicked across his own pink once. Damned if he didn’t hold his breath, waiting for the answer. “Everything.” Stiles breathed and as Derek was going to lean in to close the remaining space between them but a nurse called for Stiles.

 

Stiles jolted back, head snapping to his right where the nurse was standing and a flush crept up his cheeks. When Derek looked at the nurse. It was the nurse from before who was smiling at him and she was now eyeing them down in annoyance. “Mr. Stilinski?” She asked to them.

 

Stiles cleared his throat and backed away before turning towards the nurse. “Yes. My father.”

 

“You can meet him now.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder towards the corridore before skirting around them and left.

 

Stiles glanced over at Derek a fleeting emotion crossed those big brown eyes as he adjusted the sling of his satchel and ambled towards the nurse station to collect his visitor’s pass then turned down the corridor without looking back.

 

What was he thinking? Sighing inwardly, Derek mobilized catching sight of Stiles just as he stopped outside the room.  Squinting he watched the young Omega intently as his heart started to thud a bit faster—he had seen how Stiles had reacted the first day and Derek had to literally drag him out of ICU and the rest two days weren’t much different. Although the grief was little bit less but still palpable that it almost made him choke whenever he’d to look into Stiles’ eyes all red-rimmed puffy and sad. Unaware that he was watching, Stiles closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, appearing to steel himself. Something clutched Derek’s chest at seeing the young Omega so vulnerable, but he hung back, knowing Stiles would resent any intrusion.

 

Finally, he straightened his spine and reached down to push open the door. Derek followed slowly but stopped when realization had hit him hard upon hearing his Boss’s voice.

 

“Stiles. Son.”

 

“Hi, Dad.”

 

Fate had a funny way to screw him up. One moment he was seducing the young Omega and then he was going to stand in front the Omega’s father—his Boss, the Sheriff.

 

Gulping down the sudden lump in his throat, Derek trudged the remaining distant, his heart getting wilder. When he was young he’d meet Stiles at their mothers’ monthly kitty-party. Nothing unusual at first but slowly the little boy with freckled cheeks, shaggy brunette hair, big golden-brown eyes had got under his skin like no other. He’d always been good to Stiles, tried his best to hide his rugged nature and appeared soft... Shit no... It came naturally to him, whenever he was around the chatter pot. That beaming smile, sparking eyes always melted him, melted his heart, and unlocked something in him he hadn’t known existed. Now after so many years, the same boy and grown to a man and knocked Derek on his ass, made his crazy, half lunatic if possible—that day the way his behaviour was so shameful. He wished he could change that but his emotions were overflowing that he couldn’t help himself.

 

Knowing Stiles identity in advance wouldn’t have made a difference, all this years what he’s tired to run away from was few steps away and damn he couldn’t make a move. The man was his boss’s son and Sheriff was well aware of Derek and his life. His involvement with other Omegas. Derek didn’t know how he would control his reaction in front of Jonathan, touching Stiles, scenting him or things the Alpha in him would compel him to do.

 

Shaking his head to clear it, he refocused on the conversation taking place just round the door. “You shouldn’t have come all this way. I’m going to be just fine.”Jonathan wheezed, making Derek flinch. “The Doctor said I’m healing well.”

 

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” Stiles said and Derek imaged the frown he must have and slight jutting out of his lower lips. Derek unconsciously licked his lips.

 

Jonathan laughed, little strained and coughed then he heard shuffling of feet. “Relax dad.”

 

“More than happy to see you, son.” Jonathan rasped, coughing a little. “I’m just surprised.”

 

“Don’t be old man. But I’m little surprised when that nurse told me about your heart condition.” Stiles groaned. “Why do you plan on give me a cardiac arrest in such a young age?”

 

Derek smiled to himself.

 

“I see you haven’t changed one bit,” Jonathan responded good-naturedly. He paused taking a deep and shaky breath. “Mellissa told me what happened. I’m sorry.”

 

Derek frowned, wondering what Jonathan meant and Stiles’ respond piqued his interest. Stiles was silent for some bit then huffed. “I should’ve known that traitor.” His voice was soft but agitated.

 

“He is my secret Agent. He was bound to his duty. He informed his mother and she shared the news.” Jonathan mused. “I’m sorry though.”

 

Stiles chucked. “Sure. Tell your secret agent that he is fired.” He paused; his soft footsteps were head, then slight scrapping of chair leg on the floor. “You don’t worry about it. I’m happy it happened and I’m here with you now.”

 

“Yes and I’m glad that...” Jonathan trailed off and cleared his throat. “I was informed that Derek went to get you. I hope you have settled properly.”

 

Stiles cleared his throat as he stuttered. “Ye...yeah he had and I’m good for now.”

 

Derek took that as his cue to stop eavesdropping like a teenager and face the music. He walked inside his gaze immediately colliding with Stiles’ wide embarrassed one. Keeping his face impassive, he diverted his attention towards Jonathan. “Morning, Jon.”

 

Jonathan nodded on a slight smile. “Speak of the devil and he appears.” He gestured with a weak wave. “You know son if Derek hadn’t been there that day I don’t think I could have made it alive.”

 

Stiles didn’t respond. Curious, Derek chanced a glance to found brown confused eyes piercing him, raking a shiver up his spine. Derek returning his eyes to the Sheriff pasting on what he hoped was a warm smile. “It was my duty.”

 

Jonathan nodded weakly but thoughtfully. “And I’m glad that I chose you.”

 

“Thank you.” Stiles squawked making Derek look at him almost getting lost in those golden-brown eyes and how genuine they were. “Thanks for saving him.” He extended his hand, startling Derek. Taking few step towards Stiles, Derek placed his hand in Stiles’, the contact generated a bust of static, like usual and Stiles eyes widened slightly as they dropped to their connected hands.

 

Derek could feel Jonathan watching them expectantly from his reclined position so he took his hand back and stuffed it into his pocket. “Um... Like I said it was my duty.”

 

Jonathan addressed his Omega son once more. “Detective Hale here started as an apprentice and now is an expert negotiator in his own right. We’ve been working together for about five years.”

 

“Really?” Stiles sounded surprised then when he looked at Derek again something flashed in his eyes. “I... I didn’t know he works for you.” Stiles chuckled shaking his head mildly. “When I saw him at the club I was quite confused but now I guess why?”

 

“At a club?”

 

Stiles laughed awkwardly. “Christmas party, dad.”

 

Derek almost scoffed. The club was anything but Christmas.

 

Turning his head, Jonathan raised an eyebrow at him. “You didn’t tell him that you work for the department.”

 

 _I thought you have told your son about me_.“Not good at tell and show.” Derek shrugged. He felt slightly disappointed

 

 “I should’ve guessed seeing you in the parking lot that day.” Stiles interjected and tapped his temple with his index finger. “Not working after I heard what happened with you.”

 

It took considerable effort to maintain his casual posture with Stiles so close, emanating Omega heat and scent from his body and talking in that sweet voice. Derek felt anything but casual.  What he feared few moments ago was happening to him now. The need Stiles’d stirred in him was growing stronger by second. In fact being in the presence of his father was only making him want to prove himself that he could be a desirable mate for his son.

 

Jonathan cleared his throat, propelling Derek’s back to reality. “Stiles, would you mind grabbing me a cup of coffee from the cafeteria? The stuff they’re bringing me isn’t worth a damn.”

 

Stiles stood and mocked salute at his father. “Sure, Sir.” He skirted Derek as he watched Stiles disappeared through the hospital room door. He felt Jonathan’s gaze burning into the side of his head. Derek again tried past a casual expression on his face and turned.

 

“You didn’t tell him that I work for you?” Derek tried not to sound accusing.

 

Sheriff flashed his eyes and growled lowly. “Don’t even think about it, Hale.”

 

Damn. “Boss?” Derek clenched his fist and unclenched it, feeling restless all of a sudden.

 

Jonathan narrowed his eyes regarding him closely. “There are protocols I’d to follow and knowing your background it wasn’t safe to inform Stiles that you have come back from your hibernation.” He said in his serous work mode voice and pointed towards the hallway. “Whatever you’re thinking, forget it. He is in no place right now to field your advances and definitely not after your betrayal.”

 

Derek spluttered in shock. “My betrayal?”

 

“Yes. An Alpha never leaves his Omega.”

 

“What?” His eyes widened slightly and brows furrowed. The Sheriff was going way above his head at this pace. “I was never his Alpha.”

 

Jonathan nodded and locked his finger on his lap as his shoulder sunk. “He thought you were. And after you left he wasn’t the same.”

 

Fuck. “Did he tell you that he...” Derek trailed off, half elated and half pained. _He thought I was his Alpha._

 

The Sheriff’s head snapped up and a dark look crossed his face causing Derek’s shoulder to tense “You shouldn’t have being so close to him to begin with. An Omega gets emotionally attached fast and then they become dependable. You gave him hope and took it away. So no after what has happened, I don’t think it is best for him.”

 

In all honestly Derek didn’t remember giving any hope to Stiles, so then what went wrong? Uncertain, he pondered Sheriff’s words for a moment and registered another thing before lifting his head and scowling. “What has happened to him?”

 

Jonathan sighed heavily. “Stiles hadn’t shared it with me but what I could gather this asshole lawyer he was planning on marrying in two months broke off their engagement that night of my accident.”

 

Derek’s heart pounded furiously in his chest, drowning out the beeping machines. Stiles’d been engaged up until four days. The way he looked heartbroken that night, lost and distant made sense. He wasn’t crying only for his father but also for the asshole from the picture. “Son of a bitch.”

 

Jonathan grunted in agreement and frowned. “Theo was never good for him. During his summer vacation this year, Stiles came to visit me with Theo to announce their engagement and by one look I knew. His arrogance proclaimed his littleness.”

 

“Stiles was here in Beacon Hills?” _And he didn’t come to meet me or Cora._

 

“Yes. You were visiting Laura then.” Jonathan supplied and gave Derek a meaningful look. “Be a friend to him like you both were but nothing else. Some distraction from this situation will do him a world of good. I don’t want him to mope.”

 

“Distraction. Right.” Derek drifted from the conversation, wrestling with the image of Stiles and Theo kissing. An Alpha who’d apparently hurt Stiles, an Alpha who didn’t deserve him had touched what was Derek’s. Now it made sense. Stiles was his, Sheriff was right their relationship although had been platonic but Derek had been too close to Stiles to give him hope for future and he’d failed him. He should’ve been more clear about his intension—it was either or not and Derek had giving that little Omega boy mixed signals. Dating other Omegas did nothing but hurt Stiles when he had hoped that one day Derek would claim him as his. Foolish, Derek had been foolish and now he didn’t know how to fix it. He wasn’t sure whether he deserved someone like Stiles, a person far better than him in every way. When Jonathan cleared his throat, he snapped out of his dark thoughts, only to find his mentor watching him closely. Too closely.

 

When the Sheriff final spoke Derek could practically feel an axe near his neck. “I’ve never addressed your fucked-up track records with Omegas, because it wasn’t my business but now for my situation you and Stiles have reunited which I never wanted to happen be honest.” He paused lifting an eyebrow making an emphasis and no regret in confessing. Derek could only nod and swallow hard. “I want him to be happy and safe and unfortunately you’re the only one I can trust to keep him safe after how vulnerable Beacon Hills has become. And also I won’t have you taking advantage of him. Keep in mind Detective.”

 

Derek rubbed the back of his neck. Apparently his mentor didn’t think very highly of him in every way. For good reason. His damn history with Omega happened to be abysmal stupidity, to put it mildly, now that he knew what he was going to lose for faceless and nameless escape. No father in his right mind would want Derek anywhere near his Omega son or daughter. Sucking in a breath he met the Sheriff’s eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind, Sheriff.” His voice took work mode as he nodded in surrender despite his sinking ego and heart.

 

Jonathan hummed, a scowl marring his wrinkled face as he looked out the window. “I want to thank you for protecting Stiles. I know about the attack. Parrish has informed me already.”

 

Derek winced inwardly, how helpless and desperate he felt. One moment he was chasing Stiles playful and bickering and then bullets were flying across the parking lot from everywhere. “Parrish and I are taking care of it.”

 

Jonathan made an impatient noise. “I hate being stuck in this hospital bed when my officers are running around without my command. I can’t do a damn thing for you all and for my son.”

 

“We all need you to heal first and then we are ready to play at your command, Jon.” Derek’s rely was quick and honest and when Jonathan turned his head to look at him, he gave an affirming nod.  Jonathan’s image was imposing and he was the department’s backbone. Without him all the officers of the department were like lost kids. “Boyd and Erica are here and two other juniors.”

 

Jonathan groaned, screwing his face up. “Now are you all planning to baby me?”

 

Derek gave a lopsided smile. “Just looking after you, Sir.”

 

For a moment Derek appreciated the shift of conversation. Whatever was happening in Beacon Hill should be his first matter of concern. Instead, here he was lusting after Stiles. Sex should be the last thing on his mind considering the circumstances. But Stiles...how could he not think about his Omega. _His_... Fuck.

 

“That’s what I’m talking about.” He grumbled. “Leave a gun and I can take care of myself.”  

 

Chuckling, Derek shook his head mildly. “I’ll take care of it.” He took out his gun from his holster, hidden behind his jacket and passed it the Sheriff, who quickly and wincing hid it under his pillow.

 

“Don’t tell, Stiles.” He warned. “And take care of him.”

 

“I’ll do my best.” Derek assured Jonathan quickly and without an inch of hesitation. “You can relax he is safe with me and the shootout situation we are looking after it. Parrish thinks it is done by Deucalion and his gang.”

 

Jonathan grunted. “I’m counting on you both. I want detailed report on everything. Have you checked the surveillance cameras?”

 

Derek nodded. “We have but there was nothing. I assume they manipulated it so we couldn’t catch them.”

 

Jonathan’s expression was unreadable but he had a faraway look. Finally he nodded and shifted on the bed. “I don’t doubt their capabilities. If they dare to cause a mayhem at this level then they could go to any extend to secure themselves.”

 

 “Why are way too cunning.” Derek agreed. “But we are wolves on the hunt.”

 

The sheriff huffed shakily; feeling discomfit was inevitable after being shot in the torso and lifted his IV hooked hand to scrub his face. “Stiles shouldn’t be here at all.”

 

“I tried to stop him.” Derek said remembering the fight he had to put up with the next day and how Stiles had been adamant and threatened to come alone if Derek wouldn’t take him. “I told him it was not safe but he wouldn’t listen.”

 

A wry smile graced Jonathan’s face, crinkling the wrinkled corners of his eyes as though he was enjoying Derek’s torment. “He could be little stubborn sometimes.” He said dryly.

 

 _Little stubborn_. Derek snorted and found himself smiling. The look on Stiles: red faced, huffing-puffing, pacing like a wild cat, running nose, brimming eyes and the way he’d yelled, Derek was torn between gagging him and to kiss him stupid. His smile faded when Jonathan lowered his voice when footsteps sounded once more in the hallway, moving towards the room. “You’re my only option so don’t make me regret it. Remember what I said. Keep it zipped.”

 

Before Derek could respond, Stiles walked back into the room beaming and holding up a takeaway cup. Jonathan’s mood brightened instantly. “There he is. The boy of the hour.”

 

Stiles tsked walking over to his father and putting the coffee cup on the side table beside the bed. “You’re the boy of the hour mister.” He leaned over the bed and kissed on Jonathan’s forehead, before lovingly running his finger though his grey hair. “I’ve to leave now. But listen to the doctors and no work.” He looked over at Derek giving a pointed look. “No work at all Detective Hale.” Derek raised both of his hands with raised eyebrows but couldn’t help the smirk. “And no guns.” Stiles suddenly flashed the gun, Jonathan had hidden under his pillow moments again and gazed back to his father. “I mean it Sheriff Stilinski.”

 

Jonathan wide eyes tossed between Derek and his son briefly then landed at his son. “I—I didn’t ask for it.” He said sheepishly then pointed at Derek. “Derek gave it to me.”

 

Derek coughed on a choke of laughter, watching the father son duo in amusement and wondered how someone like Sheriff Jonathan Stilinski, the feared Alpha of Beacon Hills could splutter like that. Guess every person possessed dual nature one when he was in uniform and one without it. Derek sighed inwardly as warmth curled through him at the sight and he wistfully wished to have a family for himself... with _his_ Omega.

 

Stiles straightened and shook his head sternly. “Don’t blame him. I know you, ‘ol daddy mine.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “But I’ll overlook it this time but no more guns. This is hospital for god’s sake.”

 

“Fine.” Jonathan grumbled his hands landed on his lap as he looked down on them resembling a scolded schoolboy. Derek’s shoulder shook as he laughed and was immediately attacked by stinging eyes from his boss. “Shut up.” Jonathan spat.

 

“How old _are_ you?” Stiles chided gently but smiled kissing Jonathan’s cheek. Turning his face, Jonathan nuzzled his son’s cheek scent marking. “Be a nice boy. I’ll come tomorrow.”

 

Jonathan smiled back. “See you tomorrow, son.” He flicked a glance across the bed to Derek and cautioned. “Drive safe.”

 

Grinning, he nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

 

As Stiles picked up his satchel from the floor and walked out of the door, his flip-flops slapping on the titled floor, Jonathan flashed his Alpha red eyes and slashed his index finger across his throat.

 

Flashing his eyes back in response, Derek bit back the growl that threatened to torn up his throat and nodded despite himself before hightailing out of the door.

 

Damn his life.

 

********

********

 

A numbing waft of cold air pinned at Stiles’ exposed skin as he walked towards the gate causing him to shudder. Every part of his body was aching from the cold and his only letterman jacket wasn’t any help to protect him from the hostile weather. When another wind flew, Stiles cursed and weaved though pedestrian the rest distance before running down the stairs to the subway platform. Waiting for a cab in this cold winter had been wastage of time. Beacon Hill was in the midst of Christmas and New Year and the streets are flooded by people from all walks of life, hustling past in every direction, managing not to run smack into one another, with the blaring horns of cars lined up in the jam. So catching a cab had been tedious and he had to reach home before Derek returned.

 

Stiles dropped his shopping bags and paced back and forth, arms wrapped around him and rubbing his palms over the sleeves of his hoodie to gain some heat on his prickling skin, staring down the tunnel every few seconds, hopping to see the approaching light. Shiver raked through his body, causing his teeth to clatter and he checked his watch for the umpteenth time.

 

Earlier after bidding good-bye with his Dad, Stiles and Derek didn’t speak on their way back home and the Alpha had been little seemed little guarded. He didn’t try to flirt with Stiles or made any attempt of physical contact, completely contrary to his tactical nature. In the close confinements of the elevator to the hospital lobby, there was an unknown tension that lay palpable between them.

 

This time Derek hadn’t parked the car in the parking lot. Instead, it was parked by the curb, two blocks down the hospital. A dozen of scents had hit him at once—car exhaust, meat being grilled by the sidewalk vendor and gallons of Alpha testosterone making him almost dizzying with need.  His heat week was nearing and he guessed this month he might have to suffer without an Alpha. Theo had helped him for two years and this month he would be helping that other Omega. Before Theo, Stiles had survived on suppressants and now he would be all alone without a regular heat suppressants to douse the pain that would coil his gut with arousal. He would be supper horny and trapped with Derek.

 

Curse his fate.

 

He ran a hand through his chilled hair and sighed loudly. All though the drive, Stiles had been discreet—he thought he was and if Derek was aware that he was ogling he didn’t make any protest... he never protests and allows Stiles get his fill—studying Derek’s side profile. Strong jaw, stubborn chin covered with trimmed stubble, his cheek flushed from cold, deep black hair careless tossed giving a sex-up look and his hands draping on the steering wheel where toned and biceps evident under  the sleeves of his olive Henley and muscles bunched whenever he turned the wheel. Stiles’d watched him teeth on his lips in an unconsciously sensual gesture and eyes on the road. If teenage Derek was hot but this Derek screamed sex. Stiles had never denied Derek’s magnetism as he was one of the many victims of his looks and sex appeal. He was an Alpha in and out. And this made Stiles dread his coming heat.

 

When Derek had asked him in the hospital why he couldn’t stay here in Beacon Hills, his heat had been one of the reasons, but Stiles thought not to enlighten the Alpha with such information—it seemed like an open invitation and Derek was already making move on him blatantly.  Stiles’d seen him peruse his body hungrily by the vending machine and he was about to kiss Stiles hadn’t the stupid nurse interrupted them.

 

Stiles was very much aware that Derek knew his way around an omega and seen him hooking up with many during high school. Even though it made him jealous, but he didn’t intend to assist Derek in honing his skills any further. Stiles would be shattered after the endeavour if Derek didn’t show any interest in claiming him... because throughout his life, Stiles had been gullible enough to get himself attached with Derek emotionally and in the process he got his heart broken several times when he had seen the Alpha with other omegas and then crushed when he’d left him.

 

Waiting for the subway was bad enough under normal circumstances, but in nine degree Celsius cold and running late was excruciating. And just as he bitterly thought the winter of Beacon Hills would help him freeze and feel nothing for Derek, a faint glow appeared at the end of the tunnel.

 

Stiles prayed the subway God that the subway would be warm to endure the journey. As the subway stopped and the door whooshed open, he sighed in relief as warm blast to air greeted him.

 

The journey to South Avalon Street station was pleasantly warm and short, it took Stiles only fifteen minutes to reach his destination. Climbing up the stairs, he groaned as his knee joints and calves ached pretty badly and his fingers felt numb around the handles of the plastic bag. Stiles hurried past the park and street vendors almost sprinting down the pavement.

 

When he rounded the corner onto the street and his heart jumped in his throat as he stopped abruptly. There were three police cars, flashing their lighting. The front yard of his house not just held a beautiful small garden and a narrow driveway but also uniformed police officers and pajama’ed neighbours.

 

“What the hell?” Stiles whispered, as plastic bag fell from his hand and chill slid over his skin. He doubted whether he felt this cold before or now after coming to this sight.

 

Taking few steps gingerly towards his house, he saw Deputy Parrish walk out of the door.  His eyes scanned the yard and stalled on Stiles.

 

Few of the officers were known to Stiles, like Jordan Parrish, one of the hot deputies of the department, cropped and perfectly styled, slightly golden brown hair, sexy eyes and body designed by gods.

 

Taking a calming breath he took few unsteady steps but paused when he saw the door open again and Derek walked out. He face was down, eyes intent on the phone and the bright light of the screen making the scowl prominent.

 

As though sensing his presence Derek’s head snapped up towards him. Stiles heart stopped as their eyes meet and then started rattling like a caged bird. The scowl deepened on his face as he regarding Stiles closely then he leaned towards Parrish and his lips moved. The distance and the cops’ car siren made it impossible to hear them so Stiles waited trying to hear his own breathing and pounding heart.

 

 

After finishing with Parrish, Derek trudged down the stairs and approached him briskly and gazed down at him with a grim look when he got close few feet away from Stiles. “Where have you been?” He asked voice clipped.

 

Ignoring him, Stiles tried to peer over his shoulder, tip-toeing and stretching his neck. He got a glimpse of Parrish talking to a Mocha coloured man and a girl with golden curls both not uniformed like Derek and vaguely recognising them. _Where have I seen them?_ Derek shifted on his feet blocking the view.

 

Derek nose flared. “Where is your phone?”

 

Stiles relaxed his neck and caught Derek’s eyes on a frown. “In my pocket. Why?” Pulling up his cell phone from his pocket and thumped on the screen. It remained dark which meant... it wasn’t charged. Not that he had anyone to call except for Derek and he hadn’t expected the Alpha would when Stiles knew they would meet for dinner at his home

 

“Why haven’t you charged it?” Derek said though his clenched teeth, veins popping out on the temples.

 

 

“What going on here?” Stiles waved his hand around. “And what’s all these? Why cops are here.”

 

“Where have you been?” He barked. “I told you not to leave alone.”

 

Stiles peered around scanning the road to see if Derek blazing temper had succeeded in gathering audience. He realized there were plenty onlookers already so looking back Stiles matched Derek’s scowl and leaned into him. “What the fuck is happening here, Derek?” He demanded on a quiet hiss.

 

Derek pinned Stiles in place with an incensed stare. “Everything is fine. I’m taking you to mine.”

 

“To yours?” Stiles scoffed. “To hell with yours what the fuck is happening in mine.

 

“We’ll talk talk about it later. Now come with me.” Derek’s voice dropping and holding a low warning. “Don’t argue on this.”

 

Stiles ignored the warning. “Don’t igrone my question. This is my house tell me what is happening. I’m not listening to your bullshit.” His voice raised as his eyes narrowed.

 

“Shut up.” Derek replied curt, short and clipped then lifted his head glancing towards Jordan and nodded then he raised his hand, bleeped the lock of his car before grabbing Stiles’ hand and pulling him behind.

 

Stiles ignored the jolt of electricity at the touch that shoot directly between his legs making him stumble behind the Alpha. He was smart enough to know tugging his hand would be futile and let him being dragged down the pavement towards the car. Stiles thought he could endure little humiliation if he didn’t want to get ultra humiliated and being carried caveman style—Looking over his shoulder he gave an awkward smile when a couple past by eyeing them—No thank you very much...

 

They stopped beside the shiny black Camaro and Derek opened the passenger side door. Stiles had to admit in such circumstances he had it in him to ogle the sexy muscled car and melt. The car emphasized _this_ Derek: dark and dangerous and black to suit his...

 

“Get in.” Derek ordered, snapping Stiles out of his thoughts about Camaro.

 

“What?” Stiles asked, clueless but again his eye went back to the car as he goggled at the leather interiors. God the car could make him cream just... _Focus Stiles._ He looked back at Derek and glared. “Take me back to my home.”

 

“Get in the fucking car, Stiles.” Derek snapped. Stiles guessed the Alpha wasn’t in an orgasmic mood.

 

“First you tell me what was...” Stiles started to tell but stopped when Derek’s hand went to the top of his head and pressed him into the car. He did this so forcefully that Stiles’ body was bound to comply. His legs buckled and his ass flopped on the seat before Derek slammed the door and his nimble feet moved inside seconds before getting dissipated from his body...phew.

 

Derek was in the driver’s seat before Stiles could blink away his surprise and before he could ask anything the car started, purring like a kitten and the vibration ran through his groin up his body making his muscles clench.

 

Stiles muddled head wasn’t working well as he decided to open the door and jump out of the car because he couldn’t stay like this. He felt like he was going into heat and if so then it was all become of Derek. Stiles had desired the Alpha all his life and his constant presence was affecting him.

 

What happened next shocked the hell out of Stiles, his approaching hand towards the door look was seized into a bigger and warmer palm. Then it was pulled away from the door as Derek leaned forward and yanked out the handcuff from the glove compartment. Stiles got trickled by the Alpha’s dark hair, catching a whiff of his intoxicating scent making him heady. Derek moved back to his seat, not letting go of Stiles’ hand the whole time and snapped the metal loop to his wrist and the other to his own, locking them.

 

Stiles stared at their locked hand, blinked few times, then gapped and by the time he gather his bearing to respond, Derek had already put the Camaro in gear and zoomed out of the curb.

 

“Wh...What the hell, Derek.” Stiles managed to stammer out his protest.

 

 

“You haven’t seen hell, babe.” That was Derek’s response as he overtook several car though the traffic. Eyes on the road, jaws clenching and unclenching.

 

“What the hell, Derek.” He repeated, feeling insane and dumbfounded.

 

Derek didn’t answer to him and did spare Stiles a glance. Stiles hand shifted in Derek’s accord as he steered the wheel.

 

Sucking in a breath to calm his thudding heart Stiles asked more calmly. “Are you listening to me?”

 

Again he was greeted by silence, except for the purring of the car and blurting horn and screeching of tyres when Derek was pressing the brake not to stop by slowing the car then seconds later speeding up. The car didn’t stop but sailed through traffic. It was madness

 

Stiles kept looking at Derek incredulous for some beat, feeling an insane urge to shake him but Stiles fear that the Alpha might bite his hand off.

 

“Derek!” He screeched losing his patience and tugged his hand, hard...well he never had patience but whatever he’d managed to bag in those incredulous moments was lost.

 

 

“Shut up, Stiles.” Derek yelled impatiently, again without looking at him.

 

No Stiles couldn’t shut up, it wasn’t his nature to shut up so he barked out a laugh. “Really. You kiddanap me then handcuff me and you are tell me to shut up. He yelled and yanked Derek’s hand, dislodging it from the wheel and making the Alpha’s head snap at him.

 

Derek glowered but Stiles opened his mouth and ranted. “How dare you handcuff me? You’re a crazy, demented, lunatic asshole. I can’t believe you kidnap me in front all the cops then manhandle me like this and then handcuff me, you fucking asshole. Stop the car or I’ll jump out of the car and ta...”

 

Stiles voice went south in his throat and turned to face forward when a light flashed at them through the windshield. Derek quickly looked back; eyes widened, snapping his hand back on the wheel and yanking it to its extreme. Stiles scream dissolved under the tyres harsh screech, blaring honks. The car skidded on the turf road for some moment almost turning to its side before Derek managed to turn the wheel back and secure it coarse.

 

“Shit.” Derek spat, glancing at rear view mirror but didn’t relent the speed. Stiles sat there frozen, eyes shut and his free hand braced on the dashboard. “Stiles?”

 

No response.

 

“Stiles?”

 

 

“Stiles?”

 

More silence.

 

“God!” Derek took a hard left and they were suddenly driving down an alleyway, flanked by walls covered in graffiti on either side. It was dusk, it was eerie and it was deserted. “Stiles look at me.” Skidding to a halt Derek unbuckled his belt then Stiles’.

 

Stiles felt his face being cupped and turned. All he could see was darkness under his closed eyelids, his lips parted slowly but nothing came out except thickening of lump in his throat and breathes hitching painful in his chest. “Sweetheart.” He felt gentle pats on his cheek still he could respond as if he was locked somewhere or drowning. “God sweetheart say something.”

 

A palm slide and cupped the back of his neck, squeezing hard and he heard a growl... A tremor ran though him... A call he hadn’t heard before had something stirred in him, did something to him or mobilized his stunned mind and his eyes flew open.

 

“Okay...Okay. I’ve got you.” Derek whispered quietly, voice even, not showing any signs of being winded as expect him to be. “I’ve got you babe. I’ve got you.”

 

Still in shock from narrowly missing death, still in shock from being faced with death in the first place, and now, also in shock after hearing the growl, Stiles blinked as tears started to run down his face and his lips quivered. “Derek?” He whispered around his sob.

 

Strong hands went under his armpit lifting him up and shifting his from the seat as he landed on Derek’s lap, then he was pulled into a hug. Cradling the back of Stiles’ head in his hand, Derek tucked it under his chin, the other wrapped around Stiles’ waist to hold tight. Stiles didn’t object as he wanted to hold him, he needed to hold him. He was shaking life a leaf. Derek rubbed his back soothingly and Stiles kept on blabbering incoherently into the Alpha’s chest.

 

After what felt like an hour but maybe few minutes. Derek pulled at Stiles chin. “Look at me, babe.”

 

Stiles gazed up at him, dazed. He was not sure what to say. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled quietly.

 

Derek took a deep breath and clapped Stiles cheeks in his palms. “Fucking hell.” He kisses Stiles hard on the lips.  Stiles went pliable, lips parting as tension melted and desire rushed through him, flooding his core. Their tongue met and Stiles moaned lowly jerking his hip as he felt Derek growing arousal under his ass.

 

Groaning, Derek’s hands flew down clasping on Stiles’ hip to make him stop his movement and pulled his mouth gasping and their hot breath mingled in between. Derek’s eyes swiped all over Stiles flushed, tear strained face and meet his eyes searching.

 

“Why do you refuse to play ball?” Derek rasped, panting. The windows of the car turning hazy with sweat and making the car more dark.

 

“I...I...” Stiles couldn’t find his breath. Frizzles of heat stabbed at his gut making it way down to his socked groin. In Desperation, his hands shot out for the back of seat grabbing onto either side where Derek’s head rested. He grounded his hips once more and this time could feel the Derek rigidness thorough his shots. “Oh!”

 

“Stilesss...” Derek hissed, teeth clenching, grip getting firm around Stiles’ hips painfully and prompting Stiles to stop grinding and gasping in surprise and also in pleasure. Derek threw his head back, closing his eyes shut tightly... skin wrinkling at the corners of his eyes and lips pressing tightly and face red radiating heat. Feeling little pleased, Stiles gave himself a moment to mesmerize at the sight being displayed of an utterly debauched. Derek’s nose flared as he puffed out some breath then slowly opening his dazed and dark eyes on him. “Not now. Not here, babe.” He whispered hoarsely. “Now, tell me was being so ridiculous even necessary.”

 

Shaking his head mildly, Stiles’ watery gaze locked with Derek as he swallowed thickly before patting his lips and whispering back. “I just wanted to know what was happening.” He sniffled and rubbed his running, pinked nose with the back of him palm and licking across his lips tasting salty wetness and Derek on them. “And you just...you just abducted me from there and...and handcuffed me to you.”

 

Derek huffed muttering curses under his breath. Stiles didn’t know whether it was a one for annoyance or relief but he hoped for the latter. But when he replaced one of his had from the hip and lifted up cupping his face... it was for later. Derek’s thumb drifted under his eyes wiping away the tear and managed to smile assuredly. “I can’t protect you with everything I’ve in me but if you resist me on every step. I don’t know how I’m going to keep you safe.”

 

“Why do you need to keep me safe?” Stiles asked quietly on a frown as his lust dissipated in a split second at those words.

 

 

Warm palm replaced from his cheek and slide around. Stiles felt the soothing kneading of Derek’s fingers into his nape, “I wanted to talk with you but I also wanted to take you away from there.

 

 “Why?” He pulled back, knees lifting up from the leather seat on either side of Derek’s hips as his butt perched down on Derek’s strong thighs. “Why not talk there. Please explain.” Anew sense of fear slowly pinned at the pit of his gut making his stomach churn. “I...I don’t get it. There were cops outside of my house and...” His voice trailed of getting smaller.

 

“There were some people at your place.”

 

“What?” Stiles chocked out, a lump of terror wedged in his throat. People? In his house? What if he was not late? What if he had stayed at home? What if? Red alarm ringed in brain. He couldn’t think any further.

 

“I would have never let anything happen to you.” Derek said gently as though he could read his thoughts.

 

“You saved me.” Stiles agreed quietly. What if he had stayed home? Goodness. First the attack at the parking lot and now this.

 

Derek nodded slowly, eyes assessing, as though Stiles would leap out of the seat and make a run for his home...which he might. “Babe, listen to me careful.” The pressure into his nape got slight firm—it was a way of Alphas’ to talk or command their Omega without showing any harshness but authority—and his eyes deadly serious and stern as he spoke. “I want you to stay with me until you dad gets free from the hospital. You understand.”

 

Despite himself, Stiles nodded jerkily as his eyes pleading the Alpha to get to the subject. And as he was little impatient he managed few words. “I don’t understand.” Lame as the words were, they were true because Stiles was fucking confused and terrified at the same time.

 

“You’ll once I meet your Dad and get his permission as to how much I could divulge.” Derek answered with utter seriousness momentarily shocking Stiles.

 

Stiles smile was tentatively at that. “Too loyal, aren’t we?”

 

“As loyal as a guard dog.” Derek answered on a frown, his face getting a farway look briefly before he shook his face and refocused on Stiles.

 

The look on Derek’s face didn’t sit well on Stiles. “What is it.”

 

Something flashed in those piercing hazel eyes. “Nothing.”

 

“Sure?” Stiles pressed.

 

Derek hummed and nodded.

 

Oh, well he could relent on his interrogation but he carried on to the next important subject. “Why did you kiss me?”

 

“You needed it.” He said flatly, like he was expecting the question.

 

Stiles’ eyebrows shot up to the hairline, and his eyes narrowed. “Right.”

 

At his reaction a soft smile played across Derek’s lips and warmth returned to his eyes. “We will discuss that late.”  He slapped playful on Stiles’ bum. “Get back to you seat and buckle up. I’m taking you home.”

 

Stiles released his held breath when he felt the slight sting on his ass. Then dumbly and slowly clambered off of Derek’s lap shifting back to his seat and clipping his seat belt.

 

“We need to discuss it in detail.” Derek promised around a rush of breath as he reversed the car, eyes on the rear view mirror and face straight. Then he craned his neck around gazing the rear before flipping Stiles a small smirk.

 

His mouth opened and closes again, suddenly his pulse started to race. His mouth went dry. Did he... Did he just... Discuss kiss in detail... Discuss kiss. Ohmygod!

 

“That’s putting it mildly.” Derek added as they backed down the alley and the car turned around facing the road

 

Stiles cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I... I’m hungry.” Derek put the car in first gear and drove onto the main road.

 

A switch flicked illuminating the road as Derek paddled the gas speeding up and said. “You want curly fries?”

Startled, Stiles glanced over at Derek. “You...you remember?”

 

Derek chuckled softly under his breath. “Of course. You’ve always liked curly fries from Mrs. Benny’s.” His tone was much relaxed and clam than before which helped lessening Stiles’ anxiety with each passing moment. “If you want we can pop by.”

 

“Thank you.” Stiles smiled and turned his head looking out the window. The flickering lights of the streets passed by as the car zoomed through the road and took few turns before halting at Mr. Benny’s.

 

Before Stiles could come down to earth from his happy high, Derek opened the car door and as they were attached, he had to scramble over the console then the seat and follow Derek out of the door.

 

The chilling air hit him, making him shudder and covering his body with goose bumps. He huffs out warm breath into the cold air and mist clouds his face.

 

“Derek.” Stiles said little breathless from manoeuvring his body out. “We can’t go like this.” He pulled their hands up and jerked making the metals clink.

 

“We can.” He said closing the door behind Stiles and bleeped the locks

 

Eyes wide, Stiles jerked a step backward. “No. No no. You can’t.”

 

Derek smirked pocketing the key and laced their fingers. “Watch me, babe.”

 

Stood by the counter, Derek placed their order to the stunned looking diner-girl and Stiles scuffed the toe of his shoe on the floor, fidgeting. God this was so embarrassing.

 

The people at the diner had wide eyes and gaping mouth at the display. Few young customers snickered and whistled and few looked bored. Flushed red Stiles ducked his head and couldn’t lift his eyes from yellowish floor untill the girl brought their order. He almost flew out of the place dragging Derek behind him.

 

“What was that?” Derek asked as he bleeped the car and opened the passenger door.

 

Exactly what was that? Stiles wanted to ask that, no scream that precious question to Derek.

 

Scowling, Stiles gazed up the man and he couldn’t find the anger in him when his eyes were hit by a breathtaking smile combined with mischievous, golden-flecked hazel eyes.

 

“I really don’t know what to say.” He grumbled and climbing into the car, crossing the console to the passenger’s seat and heard Derek laugh.

 

They pulled up outside a tall, milky white, exquisite looking apartment building, with large shiny black windows and a green awning at the entrance. Derek cut the engine and exited the car to retrieve Stiles and frowned when Stiles didn’t wait for him and hopped out. Stiles soon found the metal loop of the handcuff snap on his wrist and now it was him who frowned. He couldn’t get a read on this frustrating man. One minute his attitude turns hostile and next he was the picture of chivalry.

 

Standing on the pavement outside _The Marble,_ his head fell back gazing up in wonder. Only rich people lived in here and he was surprised to know that Derek had an apartment in this recherché place.

 

Hot breath grazing his ear and a light tug on his huffed wrist made him turn slightly to his left and look at Derek. “You can’t just only be a cop, Detective Hale?”

 

Derek’s eyes were soft and amused. “I hope it means you like this place.”

 

“Like? Are you kidding?” Stiles glimpsed up again in awe. “This is The Marble, you can’t help but fall in love at the first sight. It’s so freaking beautiful.”

 

Derek sent him a look, he couldn’t understand. “ Good.” Then nodded towards the main entrance. “Come on lets go inside.”

 

Stiles view retraced up. “Which floor?”

 

“The top.” Derek laced their fingers again and flexed of his fingers until he had a comfy grip and started to guide Stiles towards the doorway.

 

“Wow.” Looking back, Stiles craned his neck towards the parked Camaro. “You parked your car outside?”

 

“I’ll park later.”

 

Stiles didn’t need to ask why; he knew it was to avoid what had happened in the underground garage at the hospital. How ridiculous it might sound, Stiles understood it and that made him feel safer. Even after all these years of separation and both of them had grown up to be completely different person... Derek still care and it meant a lot for Stiles.

 

 

Derek nodded politely at the doorman whose eyes were trained on their handcuffed hands as the push passed the circular door and walked into the lobby. Stiles bit the inside of his cheek and another bout of embarrassment flared though him.

 

 

 The marbled lobby of the building consisted of a front desk, two congruent behind it, two coffee tables paired with two leather sofa for each and two elevator bank.

 

They both rode to the seventh floor in silence—not exactly Stiles was silent and Derek was scrolling through his what looked like an expensive Smartphone—and Stiles wondered how the fuck Derek turned so rich? Okay the Hales were above average financially and he knew this because the Hales lived across the road, almost opposite of his house, they used to be neighbours. But things changed after two traumatical incident: Mr. Hale’s death and then an accident in the generator room that set fire to their house.

 

The Hale family (Talia, Peter, Derek and Cora) moved to the other side of the city and sold their burned down house to some realtor. Laura had been studying in Chicago at that time.

 

Derek became distant. He started missing schools and randomly hooked up with so many Omegas that if Stiles thought of counting, all the fingers of his hands and toes of his feet might fall short. They weren’t close any more at that time, and two years later Derek disappeared thus breaking every connection.

 

Sheriff never talked about the Hales and avoided any questions regarding Derek or his family when Stiles used to ask him. Studies and lacrosse were the only things in Stiles’ life that kept his miserable life from falling apart without the Alpha. Slowly as time passed school and studies took majority of his time and The Hale family faded away from Stiles’ life, becoming part of flickering thoughts of a bored mind—some good some bad or bittersweet memories at times when Stiles used to look at the new house that replaced the Hale house. Later then maybe even less.

 

Stiles was outside the Hale house when a truck was being loaded of what had remained after the fire. He remembered the sad smile Talia gave him and the kisses on his cheeks with quivering lips before getting into the car. Cora looked lost and crestfallen. Peter had only ruffled his hair giving a sympatric look when Derek didn’t even bother to say him good-bye. It was a slap for him and a reminded that the young Alpha had nothing to do with him, their friendship was over and Stiles had to let go of what he once  naively thought they had. A bond, a connection, Omegas share with their Alphas.

 

At that thought of their bitter departure, the familiar ache stabbed and twisted. Shaking his head he pushed them aside. His chest grew tight as he had to clear his throat, forcing a light tone. “Do you mind if I take show before dinner?”

 

Thumb pausing and hovering on the screen, Derek lifted his head, blinked few times and after what seemed like few seconds, he turned his neck faceing Stiles. He had a blank look. “Of course.” And he went back to his phone.

 

Frowning, Stiles wondered what Derek was doing in his phone that he looked so...so... detached... distracted. The words made his chest grew even tighter. Theo used to be like this majority of the time they used to spend together—either busy with his phone, or watching TV or reading files and newspapers. He even used to easily brush off Stiles very easily.

 

When the doors finally slide open, he breezed past Derek, and then suddenly stopped when he realized he didn’t know Derek’s apartment number. So turned around and Derek ambled passed him with an amused smile.

 

With a rolling of his eyes, Stiles followed the Alpha down the hallway to 12B and waited for Derek to unlock the door.

 

The door opened as they walked into a semi-dark space, with light filtering though the large what he Stiles thought to be huge floor to ceiling arched windows. Then Derek flicked a switch, a soft wall lamps lit the each corner. Stiles gaped.

 

The flat was super-fly— three huge windows facing the main road where Stiles could see the dark silhouette of hills. In big living area all walls were white exposed bricked, the ceiling was gray and the floor was shiny dark wooden. The living room, right in the centre, consisted of an L-shaped back leather couch, a Chelsea floor lamp with red lamp-shade beside it and a gigantic flat screen opposite to it. The left wall of the room had a bookshelf and just beside it was a disappearing narrow galley. To his right, several feet behind the couch was the U-shaped kitchen with silver counter top.

 

There were no pictures or knickknacks. The area was ruthlessly clean and organised. Stiles inhaled slowly and lungful and smelled a hint of smoke beef, spices and Derek. He smiled. The scent in the air was warm, homey and almost made him comfortable.

 

Stiles eyes shot back to his wrist when he felt Derek lifting it and unlocking the metal loop. “You seem to like my place.” He mused eyes looked at their hands as he turned the key.

 

“It defines you.” Stiles murmured without his usual brain to mouth filter, like the big dork he was. He cringed inwardly.

 

Derek eyes flicked up to Stiles, regarding closely as he worked on the cuff. “Defines what?” His tone curious and amused with a slight upward slant of those luscious lips that Stiles had kissed just few hours ago.

 

Stiles looked away and did his best to keep the groan from escaping. Like you are. Shades of grey. Dark. Mysterious. Sexy. He thought but something else came out. “Like you like deep shades and...manly.” He waved his hands outward.

 

Derek huffed and Stiles thought it resembled a short humorous laugh. “Yes. Kinda.” He said as the loop flicked open.

 

Stiles’ now un-cuffed hand dropped from the loop. He brought the hand up and wringed the wrist soft, inspecting for any bruise. “Yes it’s like you and it smells like your old bedroom.” He confirmed. For the life his he didn’t know why he couldn’t something shut the hell up.

 

Derek let out a snort of...something. Annoyance, maybe. He plunged the key into the keyhole of his loop and twisted it. “It’s far better than it.” He abandoned Stiles at the doorway and walked into the kitchen before replacing the cuff with a seal water bottle. A mask slipped up. His tone grew little icy as the look on his face. “Nothing about this place is like my old bedroom.

 

And Stiles understood. Bad memories, bad past should be left where they were. It was a subject not to be touched.

 

Glancing around the living area, he gingerly walked across the room towards the large window and glanced out onto the road. The streetlights glimmered though the glass, with tiny cover heads of pedestrian and car rushing up and down the road.

 

He could feel Derek’s eyes on him, watching him from just inside the apartment door. The silence between them seemed growing thicker with each passing minute. With anticipation? The silence, lingering presence, heated gaze and the scent. Maybe? The idea made Stiles stomach flutter and knees to wobble.

 

“The bathroom is down the hall on the left.” Derek said gruffly across the room as Stile head the clink of keys on the kitchen counter and soft ruffle of plastic bag. “I’ll have some old t-shirts and track pants that might fit you.”

 

Stiles nodded absently staring out the window. After what felt like a minute he heard footsteps then felt a warm heat grazing his back through his hoodie and t-shirt. “You’ve no problem sharing my clothes, right?” Derek rasped softly, voice little thicker than usual.

 

Goosebumps prickled up his spine and an uptick of his heart followed by wild hammering. Stiles swallowed thickly on a jerky nod. “Thanks.”  Then he slowly turned around, bypassing Derek’s imposing frame towards the bathroom.

 

Derek followed behind him. “Do you want to check the bedroom first?” The question had a hint of impatience as though he was trying to make small talks and failing miserable. Stiles couldn’t blame Derek, he was a get-to-the-point-man and whatever ideas he might be having, weren’t such to be dished out bluntly, making him struggle. And Stiles terrifyingly got it.

 

He tried to stem the nervous fluttering in his stomach as he followed Derek’s directing though the narrow hall. Light flickered out from the floor, illuminating the walk. Derek grasped his elbow halting him just before the door. “I’ll knock when I get the clothes and there are spare towels.”

 

Stiles nodded again, full of trepidation, daring not to look up at Derek’s face behind him, before opening the door and disappearing behind it. His back hit the wooden plank and head dropped back as he looked up the heavens for help. Stiles took a calming gulp of air. Then he closed his eyes and slowly reopened them, focusing on the black tiled walls.

 

He hadn’t lie about the place defining Derek. Even this bathroom had Derek in it. The same dark shade, a mask of coldness and underneath it was warmth and fuzziness.

 

Stiles turned the shower tap and hissed when icy needles of water bombarded on his overheated skin, the sting chasing away the sweat and clinging smell of Derek. Eyes closed and head tilted back he stepped deeper into the spay and ran his fingers through his hair.

 

Holy, holy hell. Stiles couldn’t begin to get him head wrapped around whatever was happening between Derek and him. He wanted it gone, the low throbbing in his gut, the heat rising in the body and Derek’s smell. He wanted the fear and nausea to circle the drain at him feet.

 

A knock on the door sent Stiles’ shoulder sky high.

 

“Babe?” Derek called out, and every morsel in Stiles’ body appreciated the endearment. Except Stiles couldn’t. He wasn’t his babe chrissake.

 

 “Just a minute.” Sighing Stiles tuned off the taps and stepped out of the shower cubical, wrapping a towel around himself. He grimaced when he noticed the width of it was barely sufficient to cover his girly curves.

 

“Yes?” Stiles said, opening the door a hand’s length and peeked out, securely hiding his almost naked body from Derek’s eyes.

 

“Hi,” Derek smiled. And fuck Stiles was very sure that he was edging towards a serious case of cardiac trauma because the smile was as beautiful and the man. “I got these clothes. I think they’ll fit you.” He shrugged and held out his hand.

 

Stiles hadn’t noticed it but when he looked down at Derek’s outstretched hand holding an old BHH jersey and another piece of cloth what looked like black running shorts.

 

“Umm, Thanks.” Stiles made a grab for the clothes and almost snatched them away from Derek before shutting the door. Stiles wished he understood what was happening between them. Any inkling would be good.

 

 

Sitting on the breakfast bar and munching his curly fries Stiles watched with fascination as Derek wearing a gray vest and black track pants wandered in the living area. He switched the TV and tuned to some sports channel. Then he walked around the bar, pulled out a beer bottle from the refrigerator and twisted the top off with a hissing pop before flipping the cap between his fingers and it hit the stainless steel garbage can with a ping, plopping inside and occasionally glancing at the massive TV screen.

 

Stiles got the distinct impression that Derek does this everyday and maybe it was a routine he followed.

 

Derek took a seat beside Stiles and set the bottle on the counter top.

 

“Are you going to tell me why you thought of kidnapping me was a good idea?” Stiles asked unable to stand the silence or his own pointless thoughts any longer.

 

Derek’s eyes were on the TV screen watching some news reporter blabbering about a terrorist attack in Iraq that Stiles thought was boring as hell. He slanted a look in Stiles direction. “I told you until I ask your father I’m not opening my mouth.”

 

Determinedly, Stiles tried again. “I’m a grown up man you know. Don’t you think you’re being bit overdramatic?”

 

“Whatever you want to think.” Derek rolled his eyes at the screen but it was for Stiles and took a pull from his chilled beer bottle, his Adam’s apple doing a mesmerizing slow rise and fall. “And I know you’re a grown up man.” He eyes finally settled on Stiles and ran up and down his jersey covered torso. “I can see that.” He said taking another pull.

 

Stiles cleared his throat uncomfortably and shifted on his seat. Smiling around the mouth of the bottle, Derek went back watching the TV.  Stiles continued with his interrogation.“What about the shootout in Hospital parking lot. Does Dad know about it...” Nothing from Derek. Stiles had the sudden urge to shake him. “Fine what about you kissing me. Do you need the Sheriff’s permission to explain that to his son?” With satisfaction, he watched the slight tic on Derek’s jaw.

 

“I told you, you needed it.”

 _I needed the kiss and Derek just complied._ Stiles head fell back and he looked to the heavens for help, wondering was it just that... a requirement...a kiss that had Derek gave him because Stiles needed. _Did he want to kiss me or was it only me?_

 

Stiles grabbed the dish, slide down from the stool and went to seat on the couch. “Where you going?” Derek asked.

 

Ignoring Derek, Stiles flopped back against the sofa and dumped the dish on the coffee table. “How do you think my dad is gonna react after knowing you abducted me.”

 

“He’ll understand why I did it.” Derek replied smoothly.

 

“And about the kiss?” Stiles countered quietly but he knew Derek could hear him sharp and loud. Heat tinged his cheeks; just the thought of having a conversation with his dad about the kiss was distressing.

 

And awkward moment stretched to the point where Stiles couldn’t take the pressure of the silence and he turned around on the sofa glancing over at Derek. He had a deep scowl settled on his face as he studied Stiles and finally spoke. “I know I shouldn’t have kissed you...and after what has happened...”

 

“What has happened?”After a tense moment, it dawned on him. Apparently thousands miles hadn’t been far enough to escape the constant reminder of his humiliation. Stiles ducked his head and retracted his neck. “Oh! So my dad has told you about Theo.” Derek made a low sound in his throat, confirming Stiles suspicion. “What does my broken engagement have to do with you kissing me? If anything, it should be welcome news, being that I’m on the rebound.” He attempt to make light of the situation fell flat.

 

“I’m not interested in being your rebound.” Derek voice sounded harsh “Is that what you came here for? To work… _him_ …out of your system?”

 

“No,” Stiles countered. “If that’s all I wanted, I certainly didn’t need to fly across the state for it. You know why I came. I’m here for my father and that’s all.”

 

Several seconds ticked by before Derek sighed. “Glad to hear it.”

 

 

 

 

After having the dinner, watching an old movie, Stiles was now in the spare room. A simply made full-size bed took up most of the room. Stiles stood by the bed faffing the pillows when the doors creaked. He looked over his shoulder, curiously and found Derek leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest. As their eyes met, Stiles felt a frisson of alarm at the intensity there. The intimacy of their surroundings came into sharp focus. If he stepped back, he would fall onto the bed. As before in the car, Derek made the room feel smaller just by standing in it.

 

When Derek finally spoke, his voice sounded hoarse. “I was going to bed. If you need anything just give a shout.”

 

Warmth spread through Stiles at the clear meaning behind Derek’s words. Or maybe he was imagining the offer of something more. A man like Derek could read the phone book and make it sexy. Stiles was probably projecting, but just in case… “And what is it you’d like to _help_ me with, Derek?”

 

He sucked in a breath. “All kinds of things.”

 

“Is that right?”

 

“Fuck yes.”

 

In response to his raw tone, an ache spread between his thighs. Derek eyes raked over him, lingering on his hardening nipples, which were surely visible beneath the cotton tank top. For two years, he’d only been with Theo. Being this close to another Alpha almost felt like cheating. But it wasn’t.

 

As of last night, Stiles no longer owed his ex-fiancé his loyalty. He could do as he pleased. Provoking Derek might be like playing with fire, but at the moment he couldn’t find the will to stop. The last twentyfour hours of his life had been a shit show. Didn’t he complete and utter embarrassment grant him the right to a little fun?

 

Stiles eyes dropped to Derek’s bottom lip as he raked it with his teeth. Would Derek give his mouth the same treatment? Maybe just one more kiss would be okay. _One more kiss._

 

Then Derek opened his mouth and shot Stiles’ plan to hell. “But just because I _want_ to, doesn’t mean I will. You’re Jonathan’s son. We’re not going there.”

 

Irritation snaked its way through Stiles. He’d had enough decisions made on his behalf to last him a lifetime. He gave an exaggerated shrug. “You’re right. It probably would have been a disappointment, anyway.”

 

Derek jerked back. “A disappointment? What the hell does that mean?”

 

Stiles lips twitched as he suppressed a smile. He reached for the blanket and flipped it over the bed so he could get inside the warmth and comfort it promises to offer in cold lonely nights. “Nothing. Just that in my experience, guys who talk the biggest game are usually a letdown in the end.”

 

Derek studied him for a moment, then barked out a laugh. “Are you honestly trying to use reverse psychology on a hostage negotiator? You’re looking at an expert, babe.”

_Shit._ Stiles totally had been. It worked well enough on his friends. “Nope, just being honest. I am nothing if not a pillar of honesty.” He said and lobbed Derek his most innocent look.

 

“Right.” He didn’t budge from the doorway.

 

As Stiles faffled his pillow just a little more than required, he looked up at Derek through his eyelashes. “Thanks for abducting me, Derek and bringing me to this lovely home of your. But I think its way passed making small-talks?”

 

The tension grew thicker around them.

 

A muscle working in Derek’s jaw, he returned Stiles challenging look. “Are you dismissing me?”

 

Stiles shot him an overly bland expression and shrugged. “That’s sure what it sounded like.”

 

“It wouldn’t be disappointing.”

_Ha! Mental booty dance. Who’s the expert now, sourwolf?_ Stiles placed the pillow on the bed with a sigh, then turned to face Derek. “I’ll tell you what. You’ve got one minute to prove me wrong.”

 

His eyes narrowed. “Elaborate.”

 

Stiles picked his phone up of the bed and held it up. “I’ll set the timer for one minute. You’ll have sixty seconds to prove you’re not just a bunch of talk.”

 

Derek glanced at the bed behind him. “The things I want to do to you, Stiles, would take a lot longer than sixty seconds. Your phone’s battery would die well before I finished.”

 

“Then I guess we should've to call it a night.” Stiles managed, his body responding to his blatant honesty.

 

“Set the damn timer.” Derek ordered around a soft growl.

 

Derek’d called Stiles’ bluff. Or maybe visa-versa. Stiles didn’t know anymore. Only that the electricity sparking between them made him feel anxious and needy. He felt defenseless under the hot regard, the sensuality the Alpha radiated heating him like a roaring fire. If Derek knew the effect the proximity had on him, Stiles would lose any control he had over the situation. Could he steal one minute and walk away? Stiles didn’t have any choice, having been the one to throw down the gauntlet.

 

Hiding the slight shake in his fingers, Stiles unlocked the screen on his phone and opened the timer application. “Fine. I’m not sure what you can prove in one minute, but let’s see what you’ve got, big guy.”

“Lift up your shorts.”

 

The deep tone of his unexpected demand raked across Stiles’ senses. Composure slipping, wide eyes locked with Derek’s. “Wh-what?” He stuttered.

 

“I want your permission.”

 

“I don’t understand,” he breathed.

 

Derek dropped his hands from his chest to his sides. “When my minute is up, you need to remember that you asked for it. Drop your shorts.”

 

One thought and one thought only raced through his mind. _Oh God. I am in way over my head here._ Stiles almost called it off right at that moment, but Derek’s knowing smirk urged him on. He didn’t think Stiles was brave enough to continue. His arrogance was infuriating but the challenge was nonetheless thrilling.

 

Stiles tossed the phone onto the bed. Trembling hands dropped to the hem of elastic of the shots. He reveled in the satisfaction of watching Derek’s jaw loosen, his eyes glaze as they tracked the movement. Slowly, Stiles skimped the shorts down to reveal his purple lace panties.

 

Derek hissed a low sound of approval and started toward him, a determined expression on his face. His hands flexed at his sides like he already imagined them moving over Stiles’ skin.

 

Panicking, Stiles held him off with one hand to the chest. “Wait. Your minute hasn’t started yet.”

 

“Start it. Now.”

 

Swallowing his nerves, Stiles reached toward his phone. They both watched as his finger tapped the start button displayed on the screen. The minute began.

 

Time raced past, but Derek didn’t move right away like Stiles thought he would. Hazel eyes dropped to his mouth and then Derek dipped his head slowly, filling Stiles with anticipation.

 

One hand came up to frame Stiles jaw. “This isn’t a rebound.”

 

“Call it whatever you want,” he whispered back.

 

Lips traced over his before tongue dipped inside Stiles mouth, as if seeking the answer to a question. Seconds ticked by while Derek teased him, exploring his reactions to every brush of his lips, lick of his tongue.

 

If Stiles’d felt exposed before, the feeling increased tenfold as Derek learned his secrets, drawing them out of him with the kiss. Forcing him to reveal himself.

 

Then Derek took his newfound knowledge and used it against him. With strong, capable hands, Derek grasped his hips and backed him against the wall with lightning speed. His thigh wedged itself between Stiles legs. No longer gentle or curious, his mouth took complete ownership, fusing it with his in a kiss meant to destroy and rebuild.

 

Despite the brutality behind it, Stiles felt worshiped, as if the pleasure far exceeded his own, which had to be impossible. And he might as well have never been kissed before. All at once, he felt reckless. Wild. Free. Digging desperate hands into Derek’s hair, he pulled the Alpha closer, begging him to deepen the kiss further. Derek obliged, sinking his tongue into him mouth with a growl.

 

As they parted for breath, his voice grated against Stiles’ lips. “If you keep working that hot little tongue against mine, I’ll have no choice but to fuck you.”

 

Before he could respond, muscular thigh pressed higher and tighter against his core, stemming the words. Stiles’s feet left the ground until Derek’d him pinned to the wall. The insistent pressure between robbed him of thoughts. Breath came in harsh little pants and nothing could stop him from moving on Derek’s hard thigh, working his hips up and down in an attempt to ease the growing ache.

 

“Would you like to come now, gorgeous?” Derek rasped around the unrelenting kiss.

 

Stiles’ answer sounded breathless. “What do you think?” his head fell back against the wall with a thud. One of Derek hands slid up his bare thigh, higher and higher until it reached his ass. Stiles felt Derek gather the backside of the panties in his fist, twisting the fabric until it wrapped around his fingers once. The lacy material pulled taut, sliding over the most sensitive part and making his head spin.

 

Fangs scraped against Stiles neck, sending a thrill of sensation shuddering through his body. “Say please, baby.”

 

“Please,” he moaned.

 

Then the tugged on the panties and Stiles mind went blank, oblivious to everything but the pleasure coursing through him. He shook against Derek’s hard chest as his orgasm propelled its way through his body prolonged by the calculated tugging of material between his legs.

 

Derek mouth latched onto his, absorbing his cries, groaning at his wild response. When the shaking subsided, the Alpha released his mouth, panting breaths matching Stiles’ own. “Set it again. I haven’t even gotten started.” He thrust himself, hard and thick, against his thigh.“ _More_.”

_More?_ Stiles world tilted. What in the hell had just happened? They’d been standing on terra firma carrying on a conversation and a minute later Derek’d managed to give him the most powerful orgasm he could remember. _In over his head?_ What a gross under-exaggeration on his part. Derek was operating on an entirely different level. One that Stiles sleep-deprived, recently dumped brain couldn’t begin to comprehend. More than likely, the man’s skill had been perfected with hundreds of Omegas. And Stiles’d stupidly just inflated his ego even more by acting out his own amateur version of _Gone in Sixty Seconds_ against his strong leg. _Oh God, could I be more pathetic?_

 

“Hey. Come back to me, babe.” Something knotted in Stiles’ throat at the earnest plea made against his neck. The events of the past week suddenly landed on him head like a ton of bricks. He could barely get oxygen into his lungs. If he allowed himself to think clearly for even one more moment, every ounce of pain and humiliation he’d suffered for so long only for this man would rush to the surface. He would drown in tears and self-pity, forcing himself to admit that the last two years were a waste of time and a drain on him spirit and escape he thought he could survive. And everything for only one Alpha. So he had caused some much Stiles wouldn’t think. Not yet. Derek could distract him, maybe it sounded lame but Stiles thought it as a away to punish him. Derek would make him feel like a desirable Omega if only for one afternoon when only for him Stiles had hid himself from the world—his rejection made Stiles feel undesired not Theo’s. Derek would prevent him from thinking too much about the mistakes and shortcomings—mistake of emotional bonding with the Alpha and getting his heart broken on the way.

 

Threading his fingers through dark thick hair, Stiles tugged until those lips left his neck. Derek raised his head, and looked at him questioningly, eyes dark and heavy, mouth damp from kissing. He appeared drugged in his arousal. For Stiles. He’d done that to him. The knowledge filled Stiles with desperately needed confidence. Hadn’t he made the decision the night he got dumped, to stop sitting idly by while life happened around him? Stiles didn’t want to be the Omega who played it safe anymore.  He played safe with Derek when they were young and got pain. In the end, hadn’t his another “safe” choice in Theo come back to bite him in the ass? Right here, in this moment, Stiles wanted Derek. To be honest he’d always wanted Derek but now the want was different, at least he could turn it different Only sex no heart.

 

“There you are,” Derek murmured, hazel eyes blazing. He ducked his head to nuzzle his nose with Stiles’. The gesture was intimate making Stiles the idea of being casual faltered a little. “Whatever is going on in your head right now, keep thinking it.”

 

Breath hitched in Stiles’ throat. “I’m thinking about you taking me to bed.” All ways have dreamed about it.

 

Derek’s big body shuddered against him in response. His hands caressed the sides of Stiles’ thighs, sliding up and around to palm his bottom. “Tell me. In your mind, what are we doing in that bed? Are we fucking nice and slow or are you making me sweat for it?”

 

“I’m…you’re…” Stiles tried to form words and failed as Derek kneaded his flesh.

 

The timer went off on the phone, but Derek continued as though he didn’t even hear it. “Am I under you, watching your bounce as you buck those hips? Or am I on top of you the first time? I could force those thighs wide and bury myself deep in between them.” Derek leaned forward to lick the curve of Stile’s ear. “Maybe I’m mounting you. Ah, fuck, I could get in so deep that way, gorgeous. Tell me what you want. I’ll make it happen.”

 

The answer materialized in Stiles’ mind. And just as he opened his mouth to tell him, somewhere in the room a cell phone rang, loud and siren-like. Derek dropped his head forward with a sharp curse, fist pounding against the wall above Stiles’ head. For a second he thought there must be a dent left.

 

Looking as though he wanted to ignore it, Derek finally reached into his pocket of this track-pant to extricate his phone. “It’s work. I have to answer,” he explained through clenched teeth.

 

Nodding mutely, Stiles slid down Derek’s thigh until his feet touched the floor and he stood. The Alpha made a sound of protest over their separation, but the incessant ringing interrupted him.

 

“Hale.” He barked into the phone. After listening for a moment, his eyes slid shut. “Fine. I’ll be there in ten.” As he hung up, his hot gaze swept Stiles from head to toe, lingering on his still lace cover crotch.

 

Cheeks heating, Stiles quickly rounded Derek to collect his shorts and pulled it on.

 

“I have to go.” Derek said ending the call and came to stand behind him.

 

Avoiding his stare, Stiles nodded. “So I heard. Um. Thanks for everything.” _Oh my God_. “I mean, thanks for bringing me here and dinner and all that. Not thanks for the orgasm or whatever.” _Shut up. Shut up now._ “Well, I mean, thanks for that, too. I guess.” _Mortification complete_. _Kill me now._

 

Derek turned Stiles around and tilted his face up. Eyebrows raised and the corners of his mouth quirked up, the Alpha looked amused “You’re welcome.” He cupped Stiles’ cheek and skimped his thumb across his bottom lip. “I really don’t want to leave.”

 

Stiles blinked and the rough words rushed out, unchecked. “Maybe it’s for the best,”

 

Derek’s face darkened, eyes assessing. “We’ll talk about this later. There’s a situation where I’m needed or we’d discuss it right now.”

 

Suddenly wanting nothing more than to be alone, Stiles nodded in response. Derek looked as though he wanted to say more, but with one last glance in Stiles’ direction, he left the room.

 

Twenty minutes later he heard the front door open and close. Stiles blew out a sigh of relief. He walked out of the room numbly. After his maverick mouth, he felt the need for a drink.

 

Opening the refrigerator door, Stiles pulled out a beer bottle before opening the cap and making a try to toss it in the trashcan just like Derek. As he flipped the cap, instead of propelling forward, it went up in the air and hit directly the centre of his head.

 

Jerking at the sharp sting, his hands flailing Stiles jumped back, massaging the top of his head and giving a reproachful glare at the cap now lying on the floor.

 

Damn, he couldn’t even make a good flip.

 

Shakes his head at himself, despondently, Stiles sat the bottle on the counter top before taking a seat on the stool.  What had he done? What the fuck has he done? “Thank you for the orgasm? _Really?_ ” Stiles wailed to the ceiling.

 

 


End file.
